


Challenge One: Authority

by Pornalot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pornalot, Pornalot 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pornalot/pseuds/Pornalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries for the first Pornalot weekly challenge: Authority</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Behold the porny entries for week one of the Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/3198.html)

Entry 1

 **Title:** not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes  
**Warnings:** Oblique references to shell-shock and off-screen violence. Semi-public oral sex.  
**Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur.

The guns wake Arthur shortly before dawn. Merlin, who has been up for half an hour already, arrives just as he is rolling out of bed, hands him a battered tin mug of what passes for tea in the dug-out, along with a plate of what passes for breakfast, and salutes, although not crisply. 

“Morning, sir.”

“Good morning, Merlin.” Arthur smiles at him with his eyes. “What’s the news?”

“Still a bloody great mess out there, sir,” Merlin says, waiting until Arthur smiles with his whole face before adding softly, “We’ll be over the top tomorrow, sir. Orders just came through.”

The smile dies. “And our reserve?”

“Delayed.” They exchange a speaking glance. Some days Merlin is certain he has dreamed this conversation, they’ve had it so many times. Arthur sighs, drinks his tea with a wince and pushes the breakfast tray away, ignoring Merlin’s frown. 

“Very well, then,” he says. “Up and at them, as they say.”

The cheerfulness takes effort; Merlin can see it, even if no one else can. He helps Arthur into his uniform, brushing fastidiously at the mud which has worked its way into the woollen sleeves and tweaking the collar until it sits just so. It’s unnecessary, since they’re all of them up to their elbows in muck most of the time, but it allows him a moment to get his feelings under control. Arthur watches him as he fusses, patient, then says with wry amusement, “How uncharacteristically thoughtful, Merlin. Should I also expect a surprise inspection? Is the General coming to tea?”

“You never know, sir,” Merlin says, but he’s blushing. “Always pays to be prepared.”

“So I’ve heard.” Arthur snorts, then lets the moment slide. “Go and fetch Gwaine and Lancelot for me, will you? I’ll need to speak with them.”

“Yes, sir.”

A shell-blast detonates somewhere close by, sending Merlin staggering before he can get to the door. Debris rains from the ceiling. Arthur, seated now, barely falters, but his hand when he reaches for his shaving kit is shaking. 

“Arthur…”

“I’m all right,” Arthur says, jerking his arm back and nearly knocking over the paraffin lamp. He catches it at the last second, slopping oil all over the desk. “Oh, blast it.”

“Let me,” Merlin says, crossing the room quickly to sop up the spill. Arthur pushes his chair back, running a hand through his hair, then looks at his still-trembling hands with a moue of disgust.

“It’s only because of the noise,” he says, almost apologetically. “They’re so damned loud.”

Merlin says nothing. He looks down at Arthur, half turned away from him, one hand flat on the tabletop and the other balled into a fist to keep from trembling. Before he can second-guess himself, he chucks his oil-soaked handkerchief aside and steps forward. Arthur’s eyes snap up to meet his, wide and half-frightened, and this time Merlin can’t restrain the need to touch, his thumb pressing into Arthur’s lower lip as he cups the other man’s jaw.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asks hoarsely, pulling back even as his pupils darken. “Merlin, we can’t — “

“Shh.” Merlin leans in to kiss him, pushing, pushing, stretching the moment as long as he can, and then Arthur is surging up to meet him, fingers fisting in Merlin’s shirt and dragging him into his lap. Merlin licks along the seam of his lips and into the heat of his mouth and Arthur opens to him willingly, his hands settling onto Merlin’s waist. 

There isn’t much time. Dawn will always eventually make its way down to them, and the rest of the battalion is already stirring, but it’s been so long that it won’t take much for either of them. Merlin slides off Arthur’s lap and onto his knees in the dirt, unbuckles Arthur’s belt and takes him into his mouth. Arthur is half-hard just from kissing, and Merlin mouths at him gently, coaxing with tongue and fist until Arthur groans and begins to fill, his hips hitching slightly in spite of himself. Arthur’s hands grip his hair, shoving his helmet back so that it falls to the floor.

“Please,” he whispers. Merlin hums in answer, flicking Arthur’s frenulum with his tongue before drawing breath and taking him in deep again. Arthur arches helplessly under him, making a soft ‘uh’ sound as his head falls back, his whole body shuddering with the effort of remaining silent. Every bitten-off moan and cry he fails to suppress makes Merlin’s cock harden, and he palms himself sharply as he works, finding a stuttering, urgent rhythm that matches Arthur’s aborted thrusts. Outside, the German shells are drawing closer, irregular as a failing clock, accompanied by the rat-a-tat of machine-gun fire. Arthur tenses, distracted, until Merlin scrapes his teeth over the vein of his cock and he jerks, hissing, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” and falls apart without warning, nearly making Merlin choke as the sudden flood of come hits his tongue. 

Afterwards, Arthur hauls him upright, bussing his cheeks, his throat, his eyelids, then kissing the taste of himself out of Merlin’s mouth. “You,” he says, then stops, apparently unable to put words to the event. “Are you — do you want me to — ?”

Merlin shakes his head. “It's fine,” he says, choosing not to divulge the fact that he had come when Arthur did, the moment those strong fingers tightened in his hair. “We should — I need to get you cleaned up.”

Arthur allows himself to be disentangled and gently set to rights, his gaze hot and weighty as he studies Merlin’s expression. Merlin wonders if he’s expecting embarrassment or regret, for all that this isn’t the first time between them. Instead, when Merlin is done Arthur tugs him closer and kisses him again, the desperation of it making Merlin’s toes curl inside his regulation boots. He smells of heavy sex and that one last lingering summer before the war, and when his broad hands bracket Merlin’s shoulders and hold on, this time he’s not trembling at all.

 

 

Entry 2

 **Warnings:** Dubious consent, authority figures (Uther - who isn't physically present), mentions of past underage, embarrassment, medical kink (urethral sounding and prostate massage), bad science.  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

 

"Did you follow my instructions, Your Highness?" Merlin, Arthur's newly appointed personal physician, asked. 

When Arthur nodded, Merlin knelt beside him, adjusting the screws. The chair tipped back. The leather of the padding was smooth and cold against Arthur's bare bottom.

"Now I'll attach these." Merlin showed him contraptions of wood and metal. "They're for your legs."

"What are you going to do to me?" Arthur asked, once his feet were in the air, feeling decidedly undignified.

"Ascertain whether your seed flows unhindered."

Arthur nodded, confused. "When my father sells me to the highest bidder, will I be able to sire an heir?"

"Everything is possible," Merlin said with a curious little smile. "For how many years have you had carnal knowledge of women?"

"Eight." He'd just been made a squire to Leon's father. He'd had all his firsts in those heady years: first fuck, first drunken stupour, first kill. By the time he was knighted at seventeen, he was a man in all the ways that mattered.

"And no bastards?"

"I wouldn't be here now if there was." 

"But you get hard? And you spend?"

"No one's complained."

Merlin bobbed his head in the slightest of nods. "Open your shirt for me."

Arthur had been ordered by his father in no uncertain terms to cooperate and he did as he was told, fingers fumbling with the laces.

Merlin leaned over him. He cupped Arthur's left breast in his hand, gently running his thumb up and down. He rolled the nipple between his fingers, then pinched it - hard.

"I must be thorough," he said, as Arthur gasped out a curse. 

He turned his attention to Arthur's right breast. 

"Everything seems to be in order." Merlin said once he was done, seating himself on a stool between Arthur's thighs. "Let's have a look at your nether regions." Cool fingers raked through the curls in Arthur's groin. "This needs to be removed."

"Do what you have to do." Arthur stared at the ceiling, unflinching. He decided that he would get very drunk once this ordeal was over. 

Once Arthur was bare, Merlin began his examination by rolling the balls in his hand. The sac contracted. It felt weird without hair: too exposed. Merlin pressed and prodded, mapping everything from Arthur's hole to his belly, leaving him sore.

"The next bit might be a bit uncomfortable." Merlin came to stand at Arthur's side. There was a slim metal rod in his hand.

Arthur eyed it with suspicion.

"It's a sound," Merlin explained. "I will insert it into your penis. It might be that there's some blockage, or that you're tight. Do you experience any problems when expelling urine?"

Arthur's father liked nothing more than have him humiliated by physicians. This, however, was new. Arthur almost wished his father had been present, so as to be able to congratulate him on it. 

"I can piss as well as any man." He swallowed, feeling slightly nauseous. "What will you do if I'm too tight?" 

"We'll set up regular appointments for stretching you. Ready?"

Arthur closed his eyes. He forced himself to breathe deeper as Merlin rolled back the foreskin. 

The tip of the sound was as warm as his skin. It nudged at his slit, then pushed. Arthur sucked in air from between clenched teeth. He squeezed the arm rests until he was sure his knuckles must be white. It was like having a wound prodded, the feeling of something probing where no probing should be possible. 

And yet he was hardening between Merlin's fingers. 

"Nothing to be ashamed about." Merlin was so close Arthur could feel his breath down there. "Happens all the time."

The intrusion went deeper, but it was only as the tip nudged at what had to be his bladder that Arthur was overcome by desperation. "Get that accursed thing out!"

Merlin stilled. "If I do, we'll have to begin anew."

Arthur had broken out in a cold sweat. "Then go on," he snarled.

"Hold it in place." Merlin's hand touched his, let him grasp the tortured cock. "Now give me your other hand. Cup your sac for me, lift it. Like that." Arthur shuddered as he touched his newly hairless pride. 

"Now I will put my fingers in your anus," Merlin explained and Arthur winced. "There are parts I can't reach from the outside."

"Do what you want," Arthur muttered, blushing. "My father has consented to all this on my behalf already. Why don't we stop pretending that I have any say in the matter?"

"This part won't be so bad, I promise. You'll even get to spend."

Arthur's impaled cock, which had shrunk, plumpened. 

A slicked up finger touched his rear, circling the entrance before stealing inside. It hardly burned at all, but settled like it was meant to be there. It found something Arthur hadn't known about despite never having been more than a week without a bedmate since puberty. He cried out, his back arching. 

"Do that again," he demanded as he caught his breath.

Merlin chuckled. One finger became two and the probing became a subtle massage: fingertips kneading Arthur's secret spot.

Arthur couldn't help himself. He began working the sound up and down, sending the most amazing sensations through his flesh. 

At the critical moment, Merlin said, "Pull it out."

Arthur removed the sound, just as Merlin's fingers became more insistent. The orgasm was unlike anything he'd experienced in his life.

When he opened his eyes, Merlin stood at his side.

"You're very tight and tense," he declared, blue eyes taking in Arthur's still half-exposed chest and shoulder; his bare lower body. "You'll need a lot of work before you're ready for marriage. But I'll let the king know that I'll do my best to get you loose and open, and really get that seed flowing."

Arthur licked his lips, his heart beating faster. "Good," he said.

 

 

Entry 3

 **Title:** They'll Never Find It  
**Warnings:** Dom/Sub, Bottom!Arthur  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

 

“Get out. It's time.”

Arthur gulped and got up from the tub. Merlin pointed at a towel on the floor and went to stand on it. Arthur obeyed. 

“You had better be ready for this,” Merlin said sharply, his blue eyes stark and punishing. 

“I have to be,” he answered feigning bravery. 

“They can’t find it this time,” Merlin said.

“They won’t.” He knew what was coming. 

The magical layer of protection that Merlin had applied to Arthur’s body last time had been flawed. An enemy sorceress had found ‘link’, which bound the protection. She had broken the final link and the rest had come falling apart. The scar on Arthur’s shoulder was proof. 

“Lift your arms, and for God’s sake, don’t talk,” Merlin said and examined whether all dust was gone. Arthur’s wet hair dripped. Water did not matter, Merlin had said, but everything else would chafe. “Lift your foot.” 

Merlin knelt, and looked up at him. Even on his knees, Merlin’s expression was unforbidding. Even while Merlin had lived in the shadows, he had always told him off. Especially when no others had dared to. And Arthur had loved every moment of it, in secret. 

He glanced down at Merlin’s fingertips, alight with a faint golden glow that wove over his skin and up to his calf. 

“Foot down,” Merlin said. “And don’t move.” 

He wasn’t! He lifted his other foot and offered it. Again Merlin’s fingers delicately wove the fine magical pattern over his foot, his ankle and up his thigh. This time his hands went higher. 

“Nngh...” He bit down the rest when Merlin’s hand stroked thigh. He felt the blood start to flow into his cock. 

“Not this again,” Merlin judged. 

Arthur felt his cheeks turn red. He couldn’t help it. 

Merlin moved over his other thigh, weaving magic, and by the time he had reached his groin, Arthur was rock hard. He bit his lip, thoroughly turned on. 

“You don’t get to find this funny, Arthur. You’re going into battle.” 

“Spread,” he ordered. 

Arthur did and felt his cock twitch in response. His arms began to feel heavy. 

Merlin’s hands wove the magic layer of protection over his balls, all the way to the soft spot between his legs, and his most private skin was now protected. Merlin’s fingers stroked over his dripping wet abdomen and up over his chest. He flinched when they wove over his armpits. 

“I said don’t move.” 

“Enough,” Arthur said. “I’m doing everything you say.” 

“After threatening to out me to your father? After thinking you could blackmail me?” 

“That was back then.” He felt too hot, despite the water droplets cooling on his skin.

“The tables have turned,” Merlin agreed, as fingers wove over one arm, then the other. “I carry your secret now.” 

“Please,” Arthur said, stuck in torturous bliss. He didn’t know what he was begging for. But Merlin’s brow unfurled itself and he felt satisfied that he was perhaps not that angry, just anxious about the battle to come. 

“Stay quiet. And keep your arms up.” The pattern went around his neck, and brought Merlin’s face close to his, so close he could smell him. . 

Arthur gasped in surrender. 

Before he could say anything, fingers invaded his mouth, swirling around his tongue and, oddly, petting around his teeth. “You don’t want to lose those, do you?” Merlin demanded. Arthur tasted his fingers and nearly lost his mind. Merlin’s harsh voice was so private, just for him. 

With a teasing precision, Merlin finished his face and hair, until he trailed down the central line of his spine, following a single droplet down to his tailbone.  
“Their sorceress is powerful. You cannot defend her attacks by yourself.” 

“Mmmh,” Arthur groaned. “Can I lower my arms now?” He wanted to jerk himself off so badly, to get rid of his unbridled lust for Merlin and his teasing fingers. 

“No.” Merlin’s hands traveled lower, to his arse. 

Arthur lowered his head in in anticipation. It felt as if Merlin was kneading his butt. Pins tore at the muscles in his arms. His legs felt tense from being spread. 

His knees nearly buckled when hands spread him to reveal his opening and a finger pressed between his cheeks. Arthur could hardly breathe from the immense heat he felt. 

“They won’t find the link here.” Merlin pushed a finger in, wet with bath water and smooth with Arthur’s saliva.

“Uuhnn,” Arthur groaned helplessly. He kept his arms up. He had to obey. No one could know. 

“You like this.” Merlin pushed deeper. 

He did. It was all he could think about ever since Merlin put the plan forward. Absurd, Arthur had said. And he had waited for Merlin to scold him and convince him. He had loved the angry look in his eyes. 

Deft fingers were inside of him, two, three, pushing and weaving the final link. And Arthur gasped for air, helpless and reveling in deep abandon. 

“Please,” he said again, hoping to stir something up. The way the fingers played and toyed with him, it wasn’t enough. His cock was desperate for attention. 

“Please what?” 

“Finish it.” The slick fingers were gone suddenly and Arthur leaned his hands down on the table in front of him. He felt far too hot. 

“You’re not done.”

“Ahhn.” Hands were on his arse. He couldn’t run around now. He had to obey. So he kept his head low and waited. 

At last, he heard a rustle of clothes and felt something press against his entrance. At last Merlin pushed into him. He bent over and grit his teeth as he got impaled deeply and Merlin started fucking him. 

He deserved this, he knew. And it felt good. Merlin roughly gripped his hair. Arthur began jerking himself off while Merlin took what he wanted from him. 

He arched his back and felt Merlin thrust deeply, shiver and still. His own seed spilled over the table. 

“Don’t let me down,” Merlin said. 

“Never.” 

 

 

Entry 4

 **Title:** Oh, Captain!  
**Warnings:** d/s, Dom!Merlin, Sub!Arthur  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Merlin always had a thing for authority figures. For Merlin, there was nothing better than seducing a powerful man, and putting him in his place. He was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. The more power he held, the better. Merlin had a skill at finding a powerful man who _wanted_ and _needed_ to be taught to walk on his knees. By the time Merlin was halfway through with them, they were putty in his hands.

Arthur was Merlin's pièce de résistance.

When he set eyes on Arthur Pendragon, Merlin had been attending a sailor's ball as Gwen’s plus one. He had been announced as Captain Arthur Pendragon, commander of Her Royal Majesty's _Albion_ , escorted by retired Admiral Annis Carleon. Like a hawk, Merlin's eyes latched onto him as he stepped down the staircase in his crisp black uniform with his cap under his arm and several medals adorning his wide chest.

"Don't get any ideas" Gwen had whispered to him.

Unfortunately Merlin's mind had already supplied ten different ideas with Captain Pendragon. At least four included his cap on Merlin's head and another three with the Cap's head between Merlin's thighs. 

When Gwen had formally introduced them, it had been an unexpected blessing that Arthur acted like he was a gift to the Earth, fueling Merlin's fantasies even more. He postured like the world owed him for living. And oh, how Merlin latched onto his act. It didn't take long to see the insecurity underneath his talk. Merlin soon discovered how Captain Pendragon needed affectionate reassurance and a firm guiding hand. But Arthur wouldn't crumble easily under Merlin's practiced flirtations. No, Merlin had had to pull out all his tricks before he managed to take control. But once he had, Arthur was all too eager to give up all his power to Merlin.

In the nearest hotel room, Merlin stood with his white dress shirt open and untucked from his trousers. By the door where he had been told to drop to his knees, Arthur stayed completely still, though his bare chest rose quickly. Merlin touched Arthur’s cheek briefly before he plucked Arthur’s cap from his head, twirling it on his finger as he sauntered over to the bed. Leaning his hip against the bedpost, Merlin looked down at Arthur, to see that he had followed orders and hadn’t moved an inch. Merlin placed the cap on his head and said, "Come here.” 

Arthur walked forward on his knees, his trousers rubbing against the carpet. When he was knelt in front of Merlin, he affectionately pressed his cheek to Merlin's thigh.

"Now, Captain" Merlin held Arthur’s chin up to ensure Arthur's eyes were on his. "Who do you take orders from?"

"You."

Merlin suddenly gripped Arthur's hair tightly, "Excuse me?"

"You, s-sir." Arthur's stutter was less from surprise and rather from a gasp of pleasure. It made Merlin's blood sing.

"Better." Merlin’s fingers loosened in Arthur’s hair and ran down to the nape of his neck. "Captain Pendragon, you have no power here. I am your commanding officer now. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir" Arthur's mouth was open, pressing to Merlin's trousers eagerly.

Merlin unzipped his trousers, "Hands behind your back." 

Arthur crossed his wrists at the small of his back and then he went to work. His mouth was hot over the fabric of Merlin's pants and his teeth were clever as they pulled down the waistband with a careful tug. Merlin kept a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder but he didn't need the encouragement. He sucked the head of Merlin's cock in his mouth without hesitation. He was eager to please as his head bobbed up and down.

"Stop." 

Arthur pulled off, his lips cherry red as he looked up at Merlin for further instruction, completely at Merlin's command.

"Strip and get on the bed." Arthur stood up and his hands fumbled over the buckle of his trousers. Once bare, he knelt with his elbows on the bed and his head hanging between broad shoulders.

Opening Arthur up was more torture for Merlin than Arthur. Merlin quaked as Arthur's muscles twitched underneath his hands. He pressed kisses to the bass of his spine, "You are doing so well, Captain." He bit down on Arthur's left arse cheek, making Arthur press back with a begging moan. Merlin couldn't wait any longer. Merlin tugged his shirt the rest of the way off, but left his trousers on with his zip down. Merlin fucked him like that. Arthur's knees spread wide as he whined with pleasure into the pillows.

When Merlin was close, he wrapped his hand around Arthur's cock with a tight grip. Arthur came barely a second later with a choked off noise. Merlin's hips stuttered in surprise, then he picked up pace and didn't stop until he came. 

Lying in bed afterwards, Merlin cleaned Arthur up with a caring hand and pressed kisses all over his face and told him how perfect he had been, how Merlin absolutely couldn’t get enough of him.

Arthur hummed and wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist as he kissed Merlin’s neck lazily.

When Arthur pulled back, his eyes crinkled with mirth and his fingers came up to touch the brim of his cap, still secure on Merlin’s head. "It suits you."

With a smile Merlin took it off, thumb running over the emblem on the front before tossing it onto the side table. "Maybe I can borrow it again." His question lied underneath his tone.

"God I hope so." Arthur kissed him and rolled on top of Merlin in a warm embrace.

 

 

Entry 5

 **Warnings:** dub-con (implied)  
**Pairing:** Bayard/Uther

Mary nudged Merlin out of the way so she could make room for the cleaned dishes. “The Prince is in a state, needs to be taken to bed before he embarrasses himself,” she said. Merlin wondered if it was true or if Mary was playing with him. This was his first chance to eat all evening after all the chores Arthur set him, and she well knew it. “Or you can ignore me and keep enjoying your last supper,” she added. 

Merlin figured he may as well go and check. Arthur was drinking tonight, and that meant Merlin would be needed at some point to keep the prince out of trouble. He shoved his last bit of bread into his mouth then did a quick check of himself, wiping his lips and sweeping the crumbs off his neckerchief. He threw a quick smile towards Mary and headed for the door. 

“Don’t forget to steer clear of the King’s quarters!” she yelled after him. 

“I won’t,” said Merlin as he jogged up the passageway. 

The hall was in full feasting mode. The occasion was celebrating some treaty or other between kingdoms, and Uther was being lauded (again) as Camelot’s supreme protector. Merlin had half-listened to Arthur’s explanation, decided it was mostly codswallop, and concluded it was simply another excuse for a certain king to visit Camelot. Honestly, how anyone could buy that they’d signed _yet another_ treaty was beyond him. 

Merlin spied Arthur, slumped over Leon and knocking back ale. Merlin headed over to intervene, thinking of how he’d have to remember to thank Mary later. A couple more drinks and Arthur would be either singing or fighting – perhaps both. 

“Time to go, Arthur,” he said, removing the cup and setting it aside. “Big day tomorrow. Training and all that.”

For a moment it looked as though Arthur would complain, but then he turned and looked at Merlin, blinked his big eyes and smiled. “ _Merlin_ ,” he said, gaze and voice fond. “You should join us!”

Merlin shot a desperate glance at Leon, who nodded and rose. “It is quite late, Sire. I think I will retire myself.”

Arthur pouted and for a moment, Merlin worried he would make a scene. But then he yawned – a great huge gaping inhale – and all the gusto seemed to leave him. “Fine,” he said and proceeded to stand, Merlin moving quickly to pull the chair out of the way. 

Outside the hall they said goodnight to Leon and headed towards the stairwell. When Arthur swayed Merlin steadied him with an arm to his waist. Of course, Arthur swatted at him and grumbled, ‘I don’t need any help.’ 

“You’re drunk, Arthur, and your father will have my head if you tumble down the stairs and break your neck.” Merlin left him to climb the stairs unaided but followed closely behind, just in case.

“Ha,” Arthur laughed. “My father. My glorious, honourable, brave father. What a man eh, Merlin?”

“Yes, what a man,” Merlin agreed dutifully, thinking of how Uther was no doubt getting buggered by Bayard tonight. Honourable indeed! Hitching his nightgown was the only thing keeping peace between Camelot and Mercia. 

“And what a feast!” Arthur said, gesturing and throwing himself around dangerously. Merlin steadied him with two hands this time, steering him out of the stairwell. “A grand feast to honour a grand man.”

Merlin nearly snorted as another image came to mind. Uther on his knees for Bayard, sucking him down, red-faced and struggling to breathe. That was the first time Merlin saw them – after the initial treaty Mercia and Camelot signed. Merlin had almost raised the alarm, but when Bayard had finished all over the Uther’s face and Uther hadn’t tried to decapitate him, Merlin had just crept away, confused and uncomfortably aroused. Mary and the other kitchen staff had shushed him when he’d gone to gossip. Camelot was very good at appearances, and Uther’s dirty secrets were kept well hidden from those that mattered.

They made it safely to Arthur’s room and Merlin cranked the heavy latch to open the door. He followed Arthur in, heading to the bed to pull down the coverlet. 

“’m not ready for sleep,” Arthur said as he made his way over to his table. “Fetch some wine from the kitchens, then keep me company.”

Merlin smoothed the undersheet and plumped the pillows. “I think the kitchen staff will have their hands full,” he said. “You lot made an awful mess tonight. Best not to bother them.”

He approached Arthur with the water pitcher instead, and poured a steady stream into his goblet. 

“You would have enjoyed tonight,” Arthur said, looking wistful. “They had roast chicken, and eels. There was a fire breather, too!”

“Sounds grand,” Merlin said. He drew the chair out across from Arthur and sat, despite it being late. 

“One day, when I am king,” Arthur began, “feasts will be for everyone in the castle – not just the nobles. You can sit at the table with me, and Gwen, too, and the knights! Maybe just one table for all of us – ”

As Arthur rattled on, drunkenly espousing his dreams for Camelot, Merlin smiled, didn’t voice the doubts he had that Arthur could ever achieve that. If there was one thing he’d learned since coming to Camelot, it was that the king didn’t really have the final say. And While Merlin found it deeply satisfying that Uther was getting screwed, he also felt unease at the thought that one day, it could be Arthur.

 

 

Entry 6

 **Warnings:** underage, non-con  
**Pairing:** Gwaine/Uther Pendragon

 

The grass is rustling softly in the summer breeze. Gwaine can’t actually hear it, but he pretends he does. That he’s running outside, on his bare feet, toes digging into the mud underneath, free from school and its people, free from home and his family. In a small part of the world that is his.

Someone clears their throat, and Gwaine looks up. His maths teacher is standing there, holding out a hand expectantly. “Your test, Gwaine.”

Gwaine hands it over; it’s blank.

Mr. Pendragon raises an eyebrow. “This is the third time in a row. You’ll find that I won’t tolerate this nonchalance of yours,” he says.

Gwaine nods, and Mr. Pendragon leaves. _Nonchalance_. It’s a word Gwaine’s familiar with. It never takes long for people to use it to describe him. Just like the other, Mr. Pendragon will soon find out that there’s nothing to be done about it, that Gwaine is a hopeless case. The sooner he realises that, the less disappointing it will be for both of them.

The bell rings and Gwaine gets up, slowly making his way towards the door. It’s the last lesson of the day, but he’s in no hurry to get home.

“A word, Gwaine,” Mr. Pendragon stops him.

The room empties, and Mr. Pendragon closes the door, grabbing two chairs. Once they’re both seated, he says calmly, “What’s going on? Why aren’t you doing your tests?”

“I didn’t learn for them, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know how,” Gwaine says. He doesn’t see why he should lie. Nobody ever cares enough about his answers anyway.

Mr. Pendragon looks him up and down, and he must see something that is worth the effort, because he replies, “Very well. From now on you will study here after my class.”

“Now?” Gwaine asks, thrown at the suggestion.

“Unless your parents will worry where you are?”

Gwaine chuckles bitterly. “They won’t. Let’s do it now.”

 

From then on, every Tuesday afternoon, Gwaine studies with Mr. Pendragon. At first Mr. Pendragon teaches him tips and tricks and methods for studying, but after a while, he just sits there, watching Gwaine. At the end of every session, they have a conversation, in which Gwaine explains the material he just studied, proving that he gets it.

After a while, Mr. Pendragon starts opening up, becoming more approachable, and Gwaine thinks that their time together is turning them into something of friends. Gwaine likes that very much, because Mr. Pendragon is not who he pretends to be in class. He’s kind-hearted, full of praise and kind words for Gwaine, complimenting him every chance he gets. And Gwaine tries to provide him with many opportunities, revelling at the attention an adult is giving him. It makes him feel valued.

“You’re so smart,” Mr. Pendragon will say, squeezing his shoulder.

“Few students take their studies so serious. You’re very mature,” he’ll say, giving him a one-armed hug.

“I admire you for your dedication. You’re so wise beyond your years that we could be equals,” he’ll admit, smiling warmly at him, closing the space between them, _kissing_ him.

Gwaine’s never had lips on his. He’s surprised at the feeling of it and while he’s getting used to it, there’s other feels to process, like the hand creeping under his shirt, and the fingers moving towards his crotch.

Mr. Pendragon pulls away slowly, and, dazed, Gwaine regards him, lost for words.

“You’ve been feeling this too, haven’t you? I want you, so much.” Mr. Pendragon’s voice is deep, filled with lust, and Gwaine doesn’t doubt the truth of his words. Mr. Pendragon mouths at his neck, whispering about his passion and his wants, his _needs_.

Gwaine’s confused, not knowing what thought first to think. Mr. Pendragon’s his teacher. Isn’t that wrong? But Mr. Pendragon _is_ his teacher… So surely he would know. He wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t right.

He didn’t even think of Mr. Pendragon that way, but Mr. Pendragon’s got his hands inside his trousers now, and he’s palming Gwaine’s penis, and it’s stiffening in pleasure.

Mr. Pendragon grabs Gwaine’s hand and guides him to hold it in the same way. Mr. Pendragon wants him, and he’s hard. Gwaine is hard, so it must mean Gwaine wants him too.

Mr. Pendragon moves his thumb over the tip of his penis now, and all thoughts flee. Gwaine groans and groans even louder when Mr. Pendragon shoves off Gwaine’s trousers and rubs him in earnest now. Mr. Pendragon moves his mouth back to Gwaine’s and thrusts his tongue in his mouth in time with his hand, and that’s all it takes for Gwaine to come.

He’s gasping for breath, trying to clear his thoughts, but Mr. Pendragon is pushing at his shoulders, shoving him to his knees. With one hand he frees his penis from his trousers, and without ceremony pushes it past Gwaine’s lips.

Gwaine has no idea what’s happening, still unable to think. He tries to focus on the instructions Mr. Pendragon’s giving him, like, “No teeth!” and “Swallow!” when it’s forced beyond his gag reflex and “Breathe through your nose,” and “Swallow,” again when he’s choking on Mr. Pendragon’s spent.

When his mouth is released—at this point it was the only thing holding Gwaine upright—he falls to the ground, exhausted. Confused. Overwhelmed.

Mr. Pendragon grabs him gently by the arms and helps him unto a chair. He brushes a hand through his hair, strokes his face, and eventually just holds it, a thumb on Gwaine’s mouth. He presses a kiss to Gwaine’s forehead and Gwaine closes his eyes.

“You did so well.” His voice is soft. “I’ve tried to make you happy with these study sessions, because that’s what people in love do. Will you do the same for me?”

Gwaine opens his eyes and Mr. Pendragon is holding something lacy in a deep red. “Will you wear this for me next week?”

And Gwaine nods, because that’s what people in love do.

 

 

Entry 7

 **Warnings:** Dub-con, age difference  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur had been working in the graphics department for three weeks. It was the only department in his Father’s firm currently without a generic lackey and Arthur’s allowance wasn’t cutting it any more. Not if he was going to save up for a car before his eighteenth birthday.

He had a pretty boring job, using the franking machine and going out for ridiculous coffee orders from the most hipster group of adults Arthur had ever met, but there was plenty of art to admire. Heading the department was Merlin Emrys, a man so skinny Arthur wondered how he survived and so lackadaisical it was amazing he had yet to be fired.

When Arthur pointed this out to Merlin the third time he spilt his coffee over his sole set of important notes, despite Arthur taking it upon himself to try to save Merlin from his ridiculous ways, Merlin smiled enigmatically.

“Uther owes me,” he said.

“Great,” Arthur said, “So you won’t get fired. But do you not want to be promoted?”

Merlin gave a little shrug at that. Arthur returned the gesture, sarcastic, and turned to go.

“Arthur?” Merlin called after him, “Er, Arthur, if you get time could you send off the cheques for the freelancers today please?”

Arthur turned in the doorway. He reached out behind him, closed and locked the door, and walked back across the office to Merlin. He smiled, a little sharply.

“You really don’t understand authority, do you?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you-”

“Silence,” Arthur said, “Listen to what I have to tell you.”

Merlin’s shoulders shook in laughter. Arthur leant across the desk to slap him. Not hard, just enough to shock him out of it.

“I am yours to command,” Arthur said, “And yet you won’t. You insist on asking me nicely. If the roles were reversed I’d have you on your knees by now.” Arthur walked around the desk, pushed his way between Merlin’s knees. Merlin seemed too shocked to object.

“Do you want that?” Arthur asked. Merlin’s mouth opened and closed mutely. Arthur couldn’t help smiling.

“I’m going to give you a masterclass on how to treat your employees.” Arthur grinned wide at what he planned to say, breathing catching before the words were out of his mouth.

“Merlin, open my trousers and take my cock out.”

“Arthur!” Merlin cried, shocked, “You can’t say that.”

“And why not?” Arthur asked, “It’s not sexual harassment if I instigate it.”

“And you’re an expert on sexual harassment?”

“It’s not sexual harassment if I don’t report it.” Arthur reached out and cupped Merlin’s jaw in his hand, ran his thumb over his mouth. It was telling that Merlin didn’t draw back, but licked his lips. Arthur knew what effect he had on people, he wasn’t unaware of how he looked. And he realised that Merlin had been watching him, entranced enough by Arthur’s arse to knock over his coffee cup in looking. Arthur walked into the situation with confidence.

“You’re my boss’ son,” Merlin said, “Not just my boss’ son, but my boss’ boss’ son.”

Arthur gave him a low rumbling laugh.

“Merlin, I’m not seeing any hands on my fly.”

His fingers shook as he reached for the zip, and they froze at the sound of released metal teeth.

“Arthur, this isn’t-”

“Just do it, Merlin.” Merlin let out a sigh and pulled it the full way down. He slipped the fingers of one hand in while undoing Arthur’s button with the other hand, and Arthur groaned out loud. He was half hard just from touching Merlin’s pretty lips, and his touch ramped everything up. Merlin jerked back as Arthur’s dick twitched.

“Arthur, I-”

“Tell me you don’t want it and we’ll stop.”

Merlin looked up at him, a tortured expression on his face. Then he pulled Arthur’s trousers down, pants sliding with them. Arthur’s dick bobbed free, thick and fast getting harder.

Arthur pushed himself up to sit on the desk, on top of Merlin’s coffee stained notes. Merlin wrapped long, shaking fingers around Arthur’s dick.

“Come closer,” Arthur said. Without any grace, Merlin shuffled his office chair in. Arthur lifted his feet and planted them on either side of Merlin’s knees.

“That’s it,” Arthur said, moaning as he said it, “Now move your hand.”

Merlin did as he was told, fingers tightening a little, moving slowly up and down his shaft. Arthur braced himself with his hands behind him on the desk, head tipped back in pleasure.

“Yes, just like that,” he said, “Your mouth next, Merlin. I want your mouth.”

Merlin lagged behind his instructions a little, but it was good, the bony knuckles of Merlin’s fingers each little pressure points over Arthur’s dick. Merlin slid off the chair, got down to his knees, and Arthur perched himself right on the edge of the desk so he could reach. Merlin licked him first, just the slit, and Arthur jumped at the pleasure of it. When Merlin swallowed him down his mouth was hot, his lips silken soft and plump against Arthur’s shaft, and Arthur knew he wouldn’t last.

“Move,” he told Merlin, “Don’t stop.” He was breathless now, but his voice held enough authority that Merlin bobbed his head up and down, the pleasure building in Arthur as he did. Merlin looked amazing, kneeling on the floor between his legs. He felt incredible, better than Arthur had ever imagined. Arthur didn’t want it to stop, but Merlin swallowed him deeper and deeper. Arthur wasn’t sure how he breathed. Merlin felt so warm, so good, and the feeling spread through Arthur’s body until it shocked him like electricity with the force of his orgasm.

“Take it,” he managed to stutter out, and Merlin did, swallowing every last bit.

Afterwards, Arthur didn’t come back to himself until Merlin had to plead Arthur’s arse off his notes. Arthur stood and pulled up his trousers.

“I’ll do that again,” he said. Merlin gave him a little smile.

“Yes, you’d better had.”

 

 

Entry 8

 **Warnings:** Leather kink, prostate milking, cock cages, D/s  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Merlin’s hands were clad in soft black leather, the gold of the corona radiata on his head stark against the black of his hair. Arthur crouched in supplication before him, naked, forehead pressed to the stone floor and his arms extended out before him, palms flat. Seated in a high-backed chair, Merlin regarded him with a bored expression.

“Rise, my dear Emperor,” he said finally, once he’d watched the muscles in Arthur’s back release as he relaxed into the position. Arthur straightened, though he stayed on his knees with his head bowed. The gold nestled in his lap, mostly hidden between his thighs, glimmered in the flickering light of the candles around the bedchamber. 

Again, there was stillness for a few long moments. Merlin had already planned out the evening, but there was no reason for Arthur to know what to expect prematurely. Finally, he reached out to trace his fingers along the line of Arthur’s jaw, watching with satisfaction as he shuddered at the touch of leather against his skin. “On the bed,” he commanded. A few moments later Arthur was kneeling on the bed in the same position. Merlin joined him then, seating himself on the bed in front of Arthur and letting his hands begin to wander.

Arthur didn’t speak, just closed his eyes and tried to keep still and quiet as Merlin’s hands ran over him, stroking down his chest and over his thighs, back up his sides and pausing to pluck at his nipples before continuing up to smooth over his shoulders. He continued in that pattern until a fine tremble had taken over Arthur’s body and his breathing had picked up, turned ragged, despite his obvious attempts to control it. 

Satisfied with the results, Merlin raised his hand and let it come down, hard, on the side of Arthur’s thigh, smoothing his hand over the spot immediately after. Arthur grunted, but otherwise managed to bite back any sound he might have wanted to make. “Over,” Merlin said sharply, keeping his hand on Arthur, letting it trail over his skin as he obeyed, shifted onto his hands and turning around so he was facing away from Merlin, exposing his ass. Rather than moving back into a kneeling position, he lowered the front end of his body onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow. Merlin took to running his hands over Arthur’s ass, letting the repeated pull of the leather wake up every bit of sensitivity.

In this position, the fine gold rings that constricted Arthur’s cock were more readily visible, his cock and the cage around it hanging down between his thighs. The cage kept Arthur from getting hard, and tonight, Merlin had no intentions of removing it. Arthur had been a fine Emperor this week, but had done nothing to deserve being able to have his cock freed.

With a flick of a hand, Merlin pulled the oil to him, the bottle of it landing neatly in his hand without spilling a drop on its quick flight across the room. All the better, as Merlin wasted no time in pulling one of Arthur’s cheeks to the side and pouring a generous amount of the oil down his crack, watching as some of it slid down to where a single thread of gold metal curled around the base of his balls. 

Again, Merlin paused. He watched Arthur’s hole twitch, the muscles in his thighs flexing as well as he tried and failed to stay completely still. It was a glorious sight, and before too long Merlin couldn’t resist any longer and drew one finger down through Arthur’s crack, twisting it to slick it in the excess oil in the process. “Good, pet,” he said quietly, his tone more gentle than earlier, though it still carried the note of command that defined these nights. Once the leather was sufficiently slick, Merlin added a bit more oil just to see it drip down Arthur’s balls and watch him twitch with the tickle of it, then pressed a finger inside. 

Arthur moaned at the sensation, his body giving way easily. Rather than pulling his finger back and thrusting it back in, Merlin twisted his wrist, dragged his crooked finger along and savored the keen that escaped Arthur as he did. Silence never had been something he was very good at, and this was no exception. The temptation to continue teasing was immense, but there was a point to tonight’s exercise, and this time, regrettably, it wasn’t to make Arthur beg until he cried. 

“Do you deserve to come, Arthur?” he asked, voice back to the sharp, detached tone from earlier. “Do you deserve to have me take your cock out of it’s cage?”

For a moment, there was nothing but heavy breathing. And then, quietly, “No.” A pause, and he continued, voice higher, “But please-”

“No,” Merlin snapped, bringing his free hand down on Arthur’s ass with a sharp crack of leather on skin. “You don’t. But we can’t leave you too full, either, can we?”

Arthur whimpered, realizing what was coming, and Merlin grinned. Crooking his finger down, he rubbed at Arthur’s prostate, keeping the touch light. He moved in little circles, gripping Arthur’s hip with his other hand to keep them up. It was only a matter of minutes before Arthur’s breath was catching with every inhale, every exhale an aborted plea that came out as a whine instead. Slowly, so slowly, Merlin watched liquid drool from the head of Arthur’s caged cock, dripping down onto the sheets. 

By the time there was nothing left, long minutes later, Arthur was shaking properly, breathing ragged and wet. Withdrawing his finger, Merlin pulled the gloves off and set them aside with the oil, then gingerly placed the corona radiata with then. It didn’t belong on his head, not outside their games. Stripped of the items that put him in charge, he moved to the bed and laid down to pull Arthur into his arms.

 

 

Entry 9

 **Warnings:** Canon era, ost-battle, lap sex, cockwarming, a bit rough but all consensual  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

The argument continues all the way from battlefield to bedchamber. Insofar as it can be an argument when only one person is speaking. 

'- got yourself killed, _again _,' Merlin is saying in hurt, urgent tones, clearly unwilling to be seen berating his king in the public corridors, but unable to stop himself from speaking at all. 'How would that have benefited Camelot? How do you build Albion from your grave, Arthur?'__

__Arthur puts his head down and walks, stoic. His armour feels unnaturally heavy, and he's sore all over. No wounds, for which he has Merlin to thank, and that's why he lets Merlin speak like this, vent this emotion at him. Because Merlin has a right to be heard. No-one else bears even half as much of the brunt of the battles Arthur fights in as Merlin._ _

__In the dressing room, Merlin keeps talking, naming Arthur a fool for this move or that, bleeding off the fear that swamps him after a battle (always after - he's fearless during, or so it seems) at the same time as he strips Arthur of his armour, gambeson and hose, his sweat-soaked smallclothes, and leads him naked to the steaming bath behind its screen. He rolls up his sleeves and scrubs Arthur pink-raw, muttering foully over every bruise he finds. He isn't gentle._ _

__At last he hauls Arthur bodily from the cooling water, and dresses him again - in soft things, warm and delicate. 'I just don't want you to -'_ _

__They cross the threshold into the bedchamber proper, and Arthur turns around and catches Merlin by the wrist, mid-sentence._ _

__'Stop,' he commands. 'No more of that.'_ _

__Merlin raises his eyes to Arthur's mulishly, but obeys._ _

__'Kneel,' Arthur tells him, and Merlin sinks to his knees before Arthur has even finished the word._ _

__'Good. You served me well today,' Arthur says, running his fingers through Merlin's hair. It's tousled by unnatural winds and clumped by blood into little rollags. 'My good, faithful servant.'_ _

__'Does milord wish his cock sucked?' Merlin asks, reaching for Arthur's trousers. And yes, milord does, but there is too much insolence in Merlin's tone yet. Arthur pulls away._ _

__'Fetch me a basin and washcloth,' he says. 'Warm water, Merlin, not cold.' While Merlin is fetching the water, Arthur pulls the chair out from his desk, leaving plenty of space. Sitting brings a sigh of relief he didn't entirely intend to let out._ _

__Merlin looks at him over the bowl of water, and there is still an unacceptable quantity of calculation in that look. Merlin is fretting over Arthur. This will not serve. Arthur takes the water. 'Kneel,' he says again, pointedly. 'This time, I want you to do it properly, back straight, hands behind you.'_ _

__Merlin has to be as sore as Arthur is, surely, but he's graceful as he goes to the floor. Now, his eyes are hooded, his expression softer, and he's positioned exactly as Arthur told him, wrists crossed behind his back, spine ramrod straight. Arthur unlaces his trousers and offers his prick to Merlin's soft, waiting mouth. 'No sucking,' he orders. 'Just hold me. Wet me. If you take before you're given, there will be consequences.'_ _

__Merlin's eyes flutter shut. Arthur slides his cock over that plush lower lip and has to force himself not to shudder, or worse, to spend early. Control is hard after a day fighting for your life, but Arthur has plans._ _

__First, he reaches for the washcloth, wrings it out and begins, wiping the smutches from Merlin's face. A smear of black-brown blood from his temple reveals a wet, raw cut underneath, and Merlin winces, but doesn't move, as Arthur cleans it out. He twitches when Arthur works the tangles and dirt out of his hair, but his hands stay clasped behind his back, his mouth stays lax, wet, pliant. When Arthur looks down he sees the sooty smudge of Merlin's lashes against his pale cheeks, and maybe the glimmer of a tear._ _

__It suddenly hits him, how young Merlin is, how unready for the war that Arthur is leading them towards.__

'Come up here,' he says hoarsely, and pulls Merlin off his now very hard cock. 'Hands as they are,' he adds, supporting Merlin as he clambers, unsteady and off-balance, to straddle Arthur's lap. 

__Arthur pulls the clothes off him piece by piece, uncaring of where they land, and continues with the washcloth, until Merlin is arching and practically purring under his touch. Then he picks up something else from his desk._ _

__Merlin gasps when Arthur's slick fingers breach him, but he pushes down. 'No,' says Arthur, stilling Merlin with his other hand. 'Be good. I know what you need.'_ _

__It takes an effort, but Merlin shakily forces himself to be still again. Arthur fucks him open, until three fingers move easily in him and he's making soft, beautiful, pleasure-hurt noises every time Arthur crooks them. When he buries his face in Arthur's shoulder, too overcome to hold himself up, Arthur withdraws._ _

__'You're going to ride my cock until you come,' he says, steadying Merlin by the hips._ _

__'Yes,' Merlin croaks. 'Let me make you come, milord.'_ _

__'No,' says Arthur, and he fucks up into Merlin's body to punctuate it. Merlin cries out. 'You're going to let me make you come.'_ _

__Arthur fucks him hard and Merlin leans into it, takes it, squirms and cries and _unravels_ all over Arthur's lap until he's coming in hot, wet gouts. Arthur sinks his fingernails into Merlin's hips and spends deep in his body, gritting his teeth against the noises he wants to make. _ _

__'Well, now we both need a bath. Another bath, in your case,' says Merlin after a while._ _

__Arthur doesn't want to joke, though. 'I wouldn't be able to do this without you. You're the other half of me,' he says, cradling Merlin's sharp-boned face in his hand._ _

__Merlin smiles like he's laughing at some private joke, and kisses Arthur's palm. 'I'm your servant,' he says. 'Always.'_ _

__

__

__Entry 10_ _

__**Warnings:** Bondage (consensual), sensory deprivation (gag, blindfold), light D/s, dirty talk.  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur_ _

__

__“You remember the safe sign? Snap your fingers and I’ll release you straight away.”_ _

__Merlin nods as he feels the ropes tighten around his wrists and shivers with anticipation. He closes his eyes, lets the feeling overwhelm him, lets his skin flush and burn with the excitement boiling underneath it._ _

__Lowering his head and letting out a shuddering breath, he tugs at the ropes binding his wrists together. The chair he sits on creaks as he moves. His heart beats hard in his chest when the restraints don’t give._ _

__“You okay?”_ _

__Arthur’s voice is calm but raspy, heavy, like he’s as excited about this as Merlin is. Merlin once again nods, unsure if his voice will carry. Of course he’s okay - this is what he wants and have wanted for his entire life - but he’s relieved Arthur asked anyway._ _

__When the ball gag goes into his mouth, he starts drooling almost immediately. It falls onto his bare chest and Merlin closes his eyes again to savour the feeling of being completely helpless._ _

__Arthur ties his feet together and makes sure Merlin can’t move an inch on the chair by securing rope tightly around his thighs and chest, too._ _

__“So hard already,” Arthur whispers and lets his hand slowly trail down Merlin’s chest and stomach. “Do you want the blindfold, too?”_ _

__Merlin nods and feels his face heat up with shame for what he’s asking for. He feels like a slag, a slut, but he also definitely doesn’t want to stop._ _

__He never wants this to stop, not when it feels this fucking amazing._ _

__Running his hands all over his exposed body, Arthur makes Merlin shiver with want. He doesn’t touch his cock though, and Merlin lets out a frustrated sigh as Arthur caresses his thighs, making the leg hairs stand on end._ _

__“Soon, don’t worry,” Arthur says. “I just want this to last a little bit longer, you see. You’re so gorgeous like this.”_ _

__And Merlin is ashamed but also so hot with it, like he’s about to melt - like there’s molten fire under his skin that needs to be released or he’ll just explode with it._ _

__The desperation turns into a low whine when Arthur finally decides to start touching Merlin’s cock. His hand is rough and it’s a slow, lube-slicked stroke. It makes that noise, that disgusting squelching noise that always makes Merlin so ashamed, like it’s something that just happens to him._ _

__But this time it adds to it, makes it even better._ _

__“So pretty, Merlin. So beautiful.”_ _

__Another stroke. Another. Another, a little bit rougher and a little bit faster. Another, slower again._ _

“I think I’ll keep you like this forever. Mine to play with.”

Merlin moans and tries to spread his legs a little, to push into Arthur’s hand, to get _more_. The ropes cuts into his skin and stops him, but that’s also… kind of nice. The pain makes it easier to withstand the teasing touches, and it’s something to cling to when Merlin feels like he’s about to go mad with frustration.

Arthur’s voice is suddenly close to his ear, low and hot. “You’re doing so well. So good for me.” 

__It’s driving Merlin insane - his partner’s voice, his touch, _being his_._ _

__When Arthur quicken his strokes and finally - _finally_ \- allows Merlin to come, Merlin is almost sobbing with desperation and arousal. Afterwards, Arthur kisses him as he unties the ropes and rubs the skin where they’ve made marks. He removes the gag and blindfold and helps Merlin lay down on the bed._ _

__Merlin feels weak with it, exhausted, really, but still tries to return the kisses. It's important that Arthur knows..._ _

__“Thank you,” Merlin whispers against Arthur's lips._ _

__“What for?”_ _

__Arthur rubs his hands slowly over Merlin’s back as he holds him, and Merlin curls closer until he can press his face into the side of Arthur’s chest._ _

__“For letting me…”_ _

__He swallows._ _

__“For letting me be me.”_ _

__Arthur looks down at him then, and waits until Merlin meets his eyes. There’s a small smile playing on his lips._ _

__“It’s not exactly a hardship on my part, you know. I love tying you up. You’re always gorgeous, but there’s something about you when you’re tied up. You completely let your guard down and show me your secrets, and it’s....”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__Arthur sighs but his smile is fond._ _

__“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”_ _

__Against his will, Merlin blushes and groans._ _

__“Oh my god,” he says. “You’re a such a soppy arse.”_ _

__Arthur grins widely and moves them around so he can give Merlin a proper, sloppy kiss._ _

__“Well,” he says. “Fair enough. Do you want an omelette? I’ll make you an omelette. Or is caring for your partner too soppy, too?”_ _

__

__

Entry 11 

**Title:** Droit du Seigneur  
**Warnings:** Roleplay sexual coercion/dub-con, crossdressing  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin 

__At the sound of knocking, Arthur stood up. "Enter!"_ _

__The door was thrown open, and a girl appeared, stumbling forward as if she'd been pushed. “Let go of me!” she screamed. The door slammed shut behind her._ _

__She righted herself defiantly, pulled her knitted shawl tight around her shoulders, and shook back a thick, dark braid._ _

__The autumn sky outside Arthur's chamber windows was dark, but the room was bright with candlelight. He looked his visitor up and down, his eyes going wide. "Goodness! You are quite incredibly pretty. It's amazing!”_ _

__Her eyes met Arthur's. She sneered. "Did you think all village girls had crooked noses and rotting teeth, my lord?"_ _

__“Of course not.“ Bemused, Arthur shook his head, ignoring her ire. "You will be a radiant bride tomorrow. Your husband-to-be is a lucky man."_ _

__He moved closer, reaching out. "But before that, I trust you will enjoy my company tonight."_ _

__She drew a sharp breath at his touch, her chest rising and falling under a very snug bodice. But she stood her ground. "I will never, ever enjoy being treated as a royal slut!"_ _

__"Come now, be reasonable. The lord's right to your first night is not mere tradition. Under Camelot laws, legal marriage requires fulfilment of this obligation. You know this." Arthur smiled, his voice kind. "Relax. Have some wine."_ _

__The girl glared at him and snatched her hand away. Her eyes were bright-blue under long sooty lashes, her full lips were red. She was tall for a woman, with an enticingly slim waist._ _

__Arthur felt his cock stirring in anticipation. He turned to the table, the ruby wine sparkling as he poured it._ _

__"What should I call you?" he asked, handing her the silver goblet._ _

__"My name is Wren," she replied calmly, and splashed the wine across his face._ _

__He stepped back, frowning. Wine dripped from his nose, and he caught some drops on his tongue. "That really was an unnecessary waste of very fine wine, little bird."_ _

__"I don't want anything of yours!"_ _

__Arthur sighed, shrugged, and loosened the belt of his wine-stained robe. He was naked underneath. Walking over to sit on the bed, he patted the crimson coverlet._ _

__"Wren, come here. Since you find my company so distasteful, let's just get it over with. If you do intend to wed on the morrow, you're not leaving until I have fucked you."_ _

__She winced at his deliberate crudeness, and looked away, blushing._ _

__Her beauty and grace, her temper and fighting spirit, her refusal to submit; it was arousing. Arthur was getting hard._ _

__Wren squared her shoulders, dropped her shawl, and walked to the bed. The faded blue skirt flowed around her legs. She didn't hesitate to sit down beside him, but her posture was tense._ _

__"Are you a virgin?" Arthur asked, matter-of-factly._ _

__She lowered her eyes, studying her own hands, clasped together in her lap. "Yes, my lord."_ _

__"That is as it should be. But surely you have touched a man's cock?"_ _

__She blinked, a small nervous gesture. "No, I... no."_ _

__He reached over, taking her hand. She didn't recoil. "Let's remedy that. Feel my cock, Wren, how hard I am already, how much I want you."_ _

__She hesitated at first, then tentatively traced his hot skin with her fingertips, sliding them along his shaft, exploring the hood of his foreskin. The pad of her thumb rested for a moment on the tip of his cock. He was already leaking. After a beat, her grip firmed. She started spreading the slick, tiny circular motions, rubbing across his slit._ _

__Arthur groaned. "You little cheat. You've done this before!"_ _

__Although she still averted her face, he could see her grin. "Perhaps. Just a time or two."_ _

__Reclining on the bed, letting her work her magic, he tugged at her sleeve. "It's time for you to undress."_ _

__"Why? You can fuck me in my dress. I'd like that."_ _

__He arched an eyebrow, amazed at the change in her, his arousal intensifying. "Such foul language from such sweet lips!”_ _

__He slid a finger across her bottom lip, caressing it. “What other use do you have for your pretty mouth?"__

She nestled up to him, her hand still working his cock. There was a devilish gleam in her eyes now. Her breath was hot against his ear. 

“I kiss my sweetheart's cock," she whispered. "I wrap my lips around it and suck him dry. I lick his balls. I drive him crazy.” 

__Arthur was lost in lust, too gone to reply._ _

"We meet in the barn. I milk our cow there. I am skilled at it. Can you tell?" Her hand kept squeezing his cock, firm rhythmic pulls, milking _him_. 

__He groaned, gripping the bedspread, holding his climax at bay._ _

Wren laughed, a throaty, breathless sound. She reached beneath the bunched-up fabric of her skirt, starting a rhythm there to match her handling of Arthur. She arched beside him. "Me, an innocent? There is so _much_ a girl can do, and still remain a virgin. How gullible you are!" 

__In response, Arthur came. He wasn't quiet about it. Wren joined him, whimpering and bucking as her pleasure peaked._ _

__They rested for a while, side by side, catching their breath._ _

__"Where did you get the dress and the cosmetics?” Arthur eventually asked. “And that braid? I never dreamed.... You truly could have fooled anyone, looking like this.”_ _

__“Oh, let me keep one secret,” Merlin murmured, rolling closer. “But the next time we play, I want to be a queen, dressed in silk. It feels good, being a woman. I want to continue."_ _

__He paused, reflecting. "You'll be a captured enemy spy. Or a bumbling servant. Your choice."_ _

__Arthur grumbled, but didn't object. “I liked it too, you looking like this," he admitted. "It felt right."_ _

__Merlin beamed, delighted._ _

__"Manservant by day, ladylove by night?" Arthur pressed a fond kiss into Merlin's sticky palm. "Be sure I love you both.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and show our dedicated porners some love!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week one of the Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/3198.html)

Entry 12

 **Warnings:** nobility kink??  
**Pairing:** Gwaine/Percival

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've gotten us into?" Percival asked, hand patting his hip absent-mindedly. He was obviously regretting not having a blaster or some other kind of weapon on his person.

"Relax," Gwaine said. "No one here knows us."

"Oh, that makes things _so_ much better," Percival grunted. "It's still fucking _Mercia_."

Gwaine ignored the remark. "Come on," he pushed Percival after the last of the staffers leaving the ship. "Follow the crowd."

As nervous as he was, Percival somehow retained the impatient, yet polite image normal people would present while undergoing a routine check after long trip. When he saw them let him go, Gwaine smiled and stepped up. Before he could say anything, the Guard gave him a toothy grin.

"Ah, lord Caerleon."

Gwaine's smile froze on his face. He tried to feign innocence. "Excuse me, who?"

The fist in his face let him know exactly how much they believed him and how much respect they had for his true self.

The lovely nurse made sure to tell him _there was a young gentleman who requested you never seek him out again._

*

"How am I expected to never speak to you again when you’re in my court so often?" Gwaine murmured.

Percival didn't look at him. His fingers clenched around the base of his glass. "Your father's court," he corrected.

Gwaine shrugged, then realised Percival couldn't see him. "You're not here for my father, though."

Percival turned to him, and his face was furious for all of a second before he took a closer look at Gwaine. He hesitated. "You haven’t healed."

"No." Gwaine took a sip. "My father thought it was a proper punishment."

Percival raised an eyebrow. "Denying you your medicine?"

Gwaine waved a hand. "It's not that bad." He noticed a few noblemen were keeping their eyes on them for a bit too long. "Come with me."

Percival sighed and put his glass on the table. "Gwaine, I told you—"

"I meant outside," Gwaine added quickly and motioned towards the large doors leading out. Percival gave him a long look, then followed it with a small nod and pushed his chair back.

Gwaine didn't get a second to enjoy the sight of Caerleon's moons visible from the hallway's transparent walls before Percival said, "We need to stop."

"I thought we already had," Gwaine said slowly.

Percival shook his head. "No. I mean it this time. I can't keep running around."

"Why not?"

"There will come a day when my family will depend on _me_. I can't support them if I'm three planets over, rotting in a cell like some... Scoundrel."

"You mean like me." Gwaine huffed. "This is your father speaking, not you." He saw Percival clench his teeth and prodded on. "You don’t have to be like him, Perce."

"And what else do I have?" Percival spat out. "A different identity every day? Enemies on every planet? A disgrace to my family; is that what I get to be?"

"You get to be with me!" Gwaine stepped closer and waved a hand towards the hall behind. "I don't want this. Any of it. I know you feel the same." He pulled Percival closer. "We can leave it all behind," he whispered against his lips. "For good."

Percival let out a desperate groan. "They'll see us," he whispered in reply, but kissed him nonetheless. Gwaine took his hand and led him away.

*

Gwaine pushed him to sit on the bed and got down on his knees.

"Please," Percival said and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can’t kneel before me."

Gwaine raised his eyebrows, utterly confused. "We've done this before," he noted.

"Not in your _palace_ ," Percival whispered, mortified.

Gwaine paused. Was this the same man who'd travelled through half the empire with him with only the—stolen—clothes on his back not a month ago?

He grinned and ran his hands over Percival’s thighs. "My father's palace," he clarified.

Percival bit on his lips. "You're the Prince," he insisted quietly. "It's not right."

Prince was just a superficial title, and Gwaine's father only called himself King to satisfy his pride. "And yet you’re loving it," Gwaine realised. Percival looked away and Gwaine barely suppressed a grin. "The ground we're standing on does not matter. I was a _prince_ the first time we fucked. The next thirty, too."

Percival turned to him and smirked. "Have you been counting?" he asked and pulled him up. Before he could get disappointed, Gwaine found himself in Percival's lap.

"Maybe," he mumbled in a kiss and shifted, his cock jerking when Percival moaned. "Wouldn't you count the times you got to be with a Royal Knight, my lord?"

"Don't," Percival warned, his hands pulling on Gwaine's clothes.

"What is it with you and titles?" Gwaine mumbled. "Why haven’t you told me before?"

"Because that's what you fucking hate," Percival groaned and rolled Gwaine onto the bed. "And it's all I want," he continued, lifting Gwaine's shirt to press hot kisses on his skin.

"What?"

Percival glanced up at him. "To take care of you," he said simply and pulled at the hem of his trousers. He took a hold of Gwaine's cock. "The knight to your prince."

"You already are," Gwaine said weakly as Percy took him in his mouth. "We don’t need anything else, we—just, fuck—"

Percival hummed and sucked on him until his name was the only thing Gwaine remembered. When he went to kiss Gwaine afterwards, mouth still tasting of come; that was when Gwaine decided he'd rather disgrace his entire family than ever go a day without his knight.

 

 

Entry 13

 **Warnings:** Semi-public sex  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin

The trick to keeping Arthur, Merlin learned early on, is to have a system. Not a system like Arthur has; Merlin's never figured out how Arthur's color-coded, hyper-organized, post-it noted and page-flagged Filofax actually works, or how Arthur quickly and efficiently reproduces the paper organizer onto Merlin's electronic one. 

Arthur's a good PA. He's an excellent one, in fact, and the best system to keep him thus is to remind him every once in awhile how very good he is. Remind him, praise him a bit, keep him happy. Something like that, Merlin thinks, and takes in a deep breath before he approaches Arthur's desk. 

"You did a nice job with the Montaigne conference," Merlin says, and leans against the desk. His fingers tingle a little, and his heart gives a jump to see Arthur's pause on the keys for a second.

Arthur's typing up something, hands on the keyboard, eyes cast away from both Merlin and the computer screen. He nods, murmurs a thanks, and continues working. 

Because it's the past the official end of the work day, and because it's just two of them on the floor, Merlin lets himself lean closer and touch Arthur on the shoulder. "Not just nice.' Really quite excellent."

Arthur pauses. He's a good touch typist, but not good enough that he can continue with Merlin's hand on him, thumb gently rubbing his shoulder. "Oh. Thank you. I think everything turned out alright." He shrugs, but the pink flush of pride is creeping up his neck. 

Well. Pride and something else, Merlin knows, and he smiles to see it. Leaning closer to Arthur, he gently removes Arthur's glasses and brushes his fringe aside with the tip of one finger. The gesture approaches a tenderness that might be out of place here, but Merlin cannot help himself.

"You did such a good job, Arthur. Everything ran so smoothly." Merlin strokes his finger down the side of Arthur's face to touch his mouth, gently enough to tickle, and smiles again to feel Arthur's breath catch. "I don't think anyone could've set it up as well as you."

When Merlin's hands settle at Arthur's collar to unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt, the tell-tale warmth of arousal already colors his chest. Merlin cannot help but be pleased; Arthur's so responsive, so grateful, so needy. 

"I'm so proud of you." 

Arthur makes a low, throaty sound and leans up close to Merlin, as close as he can, and kisses Merlin once, uncertain, then again, deep and curious. When Merlin nods with approval, he pulls Merlin closer into the kiss and into his lap. 

He's already hard, and when Merlin presses a hand to his cock, and gives another nod of approval, he arches into the touch with a sound that is more than need, more than gratitude. Arthur buries his face in Merlin's shoulder and shudders, kisses Merlin on the neck, and looks up at him when Merlin nudges him. 

He's so beautiful, face flushed and hair already mussed, his blue eyes bright with yearning and his mouth soft and damp. Merlin kisses his parted lips, and knows in that moment, that he will always, always give Arthur what he needs. 

So, it's not so much of a system, but a series of moments strung together, Arthur's breath against Merlin's mouth, his harshly whispered need; Merlin's, too, the need he keeps close inside, that he cannot lose Arthur, he cannot bear to lose Arthur, he cannot imagine a life where he does not have Arthur close to him. 

He tells Arthur's he proud of him again, because he knows what the words mean to Arthur, because he has not yet found the other words to express his own need. He brings Arthur off in that slow, urgent way that has Arthur pressing his face into Merlin's neck again, close, then closer, and then so close that Merlin can feel every breath and heartbeat.

 

 

Entry 14

 **Warnings:** dubcon (sorta), age difference  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

***

The brass door handle opens easily, and without the key Arthur Pendragon had used to lock it nearly an hour ago.

He pushes it gently with his fingertips, peering inside the open crack before stepping into his classroom.

The room boasts the same four familiar walls; the only thing out of place is that before leaving, Arthur had switched off all of the lights. Now, a flicker of neon floods the centre of the room, circling a solitary figure.

It’s late in the day for a visit from one of Arthur’s co-workers, and too early for the janitor.

_A thief?_

No. It’s more likely a student venting their maths frustrations through a prank. It wouldn’t be the first time after grading that Arthur found molasses coating his chair, or a snake in his desk drawer.

This trick, however, borderlines on breaking and entering. As a teacher, Arthur can’t abide by that.

“Hello?” Arthur calls.

He takes a step, and freezes in recognition.

Merlin, one of Arthur’s Upper Sixth students, leans against the white board beside Arthur’s desk, his shoulder smudging calculations for tomorrow’s class.

Merlin’s topless, save for a navy tie hanging down his chest. His nipples are peaked, his fair skin sallow under the economical light.

“You picked the lock?” Arthur asks. He’s aiming for cheeky, but his voice comes out high and embarrassingly pre-pubescent.

“I came to pick you, Mr Pendragon,” replies Merlin. His breathing is as erratic as prey, but his smile is all predatory. “Not the bloody lock.”

Merlin flexes as he rubs the hair at the back of his neck. It’s coy, and Arthur supposes it’s meant to be seductive—and it is—in an awkward way. Everything about Merlin’s endearingly awkward, from his thick glasses and sloppy Windsor knot, to his crinkle-eyed smile.

For a moment, Arthur forgets that Merlin is a student, and not his subject of study. He clears his throat, looks up at the ceiling, to the crack that’s remained through three years of maintenance complaints.

He’s veteran teacher. He’s dealt with schoolboy crushes before, and can fix this.

Wetting his lips, Arthur says, “The first time you bother wearing the uniform regulation tie, Mr Emrys, and you’ve forgotten the shirt that goes with it.”

This makes Merlin smile brighter. “And the trousers.”

“—Trousers?”

As Merlin undoes his belt Arthur sprints across the room, hoping to stop him. Merlin’s trousers slide down his slim calves, his belt tossed aside.

Arthur circles the desk. He takes one look at Merlin’s tight white y-fronts, the perfect curve of his cock poking through, and gasps. 

This is going to be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

Clasping both hands over his face, Arthur exhales into his palms. He peeks at Merlin between his fingers, the way one would if a lorry was barrelling towards them. “Are you trying to get me sacked? Or just kill me?”

Merlin shrugs. “Sacked is one way to put it.”

Arthur wants to leave—he truly does—but Merlin’s blocking his path, standing before Arthur like a scantily-clad offering to the higher maths gods.

Cornered, Arthur steps backward without looking. His shoes scramble for purchase as his arse hits the edge of his desk.

Merlin slinks towards Arthur. With a kick he nudges open Arthur’s feet, wiggling between Arthur’s thighs, and nuzzles him like a cat.

Arthur’s accustomed to keeping his feelings at bay—to crushing them—ignoring Merlin’s obvious in-class flirtations, for the betterment of both their futures.

It’s difficult when he’s this close.

“Come here,” Merlin says in a whisper.

Arthur shakes his head, and Merlin chuckles. He lifts his tie, flicks it playfully against Arthur’s nose before dragging it across Arthur’s parted lips.

“They’ve all gone,” Merlin whispers. “No one’s going to stop us.”

Arthur’s breathing is so erratic that when Merlin stands on tiptoe, his tie falling as his teeth catch Arthur’s lower lip, Arthur honest-to-goodness whines.

Merlin slides his arms around Arthur’s waist. He sighs happily into Arthur’s mouth, and the world falls away, because truthfully, from the moment Merlin Emrys walked into Arthur Pendragon’s classroom at the start of the year, there was no one else.

Only Merlin troubles Arthur like an impossible equation. Merlin, in his wrinkled school uniform, his fringe tussled in attractive imperfection.

Merlin, always the first to raise his hand, eyes ringed with exhaustion, his answers flawless.

Never in Arthur’s career had he known a student so frighteningly intelligent.

Merlin deepens their kiss, his glasses clicking against Arthur's temple. He rolls his hips, rutting against Arthur’s thigh as he tries to climb up into his lap to straddle him.

Then it’s too much. Too real.

With a grunt, Arthur pushes Merlin away.

“Stop it,” he says. He leans on the desk, wipes the taste of Merlin off his lips with the back of his hand, squeezing his eyes closed. “I can’t think when you do that!”

Merlin flinches, but doesn’t move away.

Arthur’s hard, painfully so. No matter how he shifts his stance, he can’t even begin to hide it. Fumbling with his buttons, he whips off his blazer and throws it over Merlin’s shoulders.

Merlin’s eyes widen. He shivers, as if just realizing that the room’s freezing, or how exposed he must look.

His angry gaze burrows into Arthur.

“You don't want me?” Merlin snaps.

Arthur blows out a breath and shakes his head. He won’t deny his feelings—can’t deny them—not when evidence to the contrary is so... physical.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Arthur replies.

“This isn’t my first time,” counters Merlin. “If that’s what you're—”

“—I wouldn’t care if it’s your hundredth! I'm your teacher, Merlin. Anyone who’d take advantage of you like this, he… he wouldn’t be deserving. Please. Don’t make me that person. I couldn’t live with myself.”

Merlin’s face falls. He’s hunched, holding his arms. Tears spill down both of his cheeks, his misery magnified by thick prescription lenses. He wipes them with his tie, instead of using the sleeve of Arthur’s blazer .

Thoughtlessly, Arthur bundles Merlin back into his arms. He ruffles Merlin's hair with his fingers, and Merlin trembles against his chest. Arthur’s taller than his student, barely, but this could change over the blink of summer, judging by how much Merlin’s grown up in the brief time Arthur’s known him.

Yes, by summer, and Merlin’s A-Level exams, everything between them could change. But for now, they’ll both need to learn how to survive one another through spring.

 

 

Entry 15

 **Warnings:** age difference, adult attracted to adolescent  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

 

Leon brought the boy back from a patrol of the western boundaries. The child wasn’t important enough to appear in the throne room, but Leon thought to mention him at the end of his report.

“We found him hiding in the woods near Ealdor, Sire. His village was wiped out by a marauder named Kanen, and his mother was murdered. He was half-starved, and had been in the forest for two or three months. I couldn’t just leave him there, so I brought him back. I should warn you, he’s traumatized, and half wild.”

Arthur was not the kind of king who let children starve in the woods. “Very well, Leon. Perhaps he can be a scullery boy. Have Gwen find him some clothes, and we will see how he goes along.”

Leon bowed and turned to leave, but Arthur stopped him. “What is the lad’s name, Leon?”

“Merlin, Sire. Twelve years old.”

_*_*_*_

 

That night as Arthur was returning to his chambers, he heard a caterwauling coming from one of the ladies’ rooms. He went to investigate, and found Gwen and three women gathered around a bathtub, trying to wash a very skinny and very angry boy, who was screaming blue murder and splashing around trying to avoid being washed.

Arthur strode over and yelled, “Quiet.” The boy froze for a moment, and Arthur studied him. He was so thin that the flesh stretched painfully over his cheekbones, and he had a mop of tangled dark hair and ridiculous ears.

“You must be Merlin,” Arthur said, placing two fingers under the boy’s chin and tipping it up so he could study him.  
Merlin didn’t answer, but his eyes flashed defiance.

Arthur felt a quick flush of arousal, but he pushed it away. He did not bed children, no matter how beautiful their eyes were.

“You will be a good boy, Merlin.”

_*_*_*_

 

That was how it started.

Merlin had some trouble adjusting to castle life. He was a terrible scullery boy, and Cook eventually refused to have him in her kitchen. He was finally sent to fetch and carry for old Gaius, the court physician.

He was a miserable child, prone to tantrums and fits of weeping. Gwen said it was understandable, and that he missed his mother. She assured Arthur that he would get better in time.

Arthur did not ask himself why he took so much interest in Merlin.

When Merlin was at his worst, the only thing that helped was to have Arthur come and talk him down. Arthur grumbled that he was not a nursemaid and that he had better things to do, but he didn’t really mind.

He liked the fact that he could calm Merlin simply by saying, “Be good for me, Merlin.”

When he was sixteen, Merlin awkwardly asked Arthur if he could be his bedmate. It was so inartfully done that Arthur almost laughed, but he couldn’t injure the pride of the gorgeous boy sitting across from him, his face a mixture of shyness and hope and longing.

Arthur let him down as gently as he could. “You are too young.”

Merlin started to argue, but Arthur touched his lips with one finger. “If you’re a good boy for me, I will take you to my bed when you are seventeen.”

_*_*_*_

 

Merlin spent a goodly portion of the next year jerking off until he was almost raw, thinking of Arthur’s voice saying, “You are my good boy.” 

 

_*_*_*_

Merlin’s seventeenth birthday was the best day of his life.

Gwen gave him a blue velvet jacket lined with fur. Gwaine gave him a throwing knife with a carved handle and promised to give him lessons. Leon gave him a box of sweetmeats, and Gaius gave him an illustrated bestiary.

Arthur brought Merlin to his chambers and gave him ten gold coins, saying gravely, “You are a man now, and I never want you to feel like you have to stay here. With ready money, you can go where you choose.”

Merlin lunged for him, and silenced him with a kiss that was as fierce as it was unpracticed. 

_*_*_*_

Arthur taught Merlin how to make love with patience and a tenderness that took Merlin’s breath away.

Merlin was a more than eager learner, and sometimes Arthur would tease him. “You’re so insatiable, my little hawk. Seventeen can go all night, but thirty-seven needs a break sometimes.”

Merlin studied Arthur’s body where it lay on top of the sheets. He was beautiful, all golden skin and taut muscles, and Merlin never tired of looking at him.

Merlin said solemnly, “I’ve noticed that you have trouble keeping up with me, old man.”

Arthur reached out with one arm and easily pulled Merlin onto his chest, biting his neck hard enough to leave a mark and growling, “I’ll show you old man, whelp.” 

And he did, fucking Merlin so hard that there was a slight hitch in his step the next day. When Merlin noticed Arthur watching him, they smiled into each other’s eyes across the room.

_*_*_*_

 

It didn’t take long for Arthur to figure out that Merlin blossomed under praise, and that the way to smooth his rough edges was to say sweet things.

“You’re so pretty like that, kneeling for me,” he would murmur, running his fingers through Merlin’s hair as Merlin sucked him off. “Such a pretty boy.” 

Sometimes he would arrange Merlin’s hips over a pillow and roughly fuck him with two oiled fingers, praising him with each thrust in. “My good boy, my sweet boy, my precious one.” 

Merlin would moan through his gag, and come so hard he would almost black out.

The praise enhanced their lovemaking and was something special just for them. They didn’t use it every time, but Arthur knew how much it meant to Merlin, and was happy to indulge him

Merlin always knew that he was Arthur’s good boy, and that he was loved.

 

 

Entry 16

 **Warnings:** Light dom/sub  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“Stop squirming, Merlin.”

Arthur’s voice manages to make its way to Merlin’s mind despite it being smothered in a haze of pleasure. Merlin automatically sits up straight, whimpering at the feeling of the butt plug moving inside him, pushing right at his prostate.

He’s been in this state for over an hour. Arthur had come back from work, slicked it up and pushed it in, and then pulled Merlin’s jeans over it and told him to keep it in throughout dinner and while he showered.

It’s been over an hour, and Merlin doesn’t know how much longer he can take this.

“Merlin,” Arthur growls when Merlin fidgets where he is sitting on the couch, trying to watch a movie. Merlin instantly stills, fighting to keep from clenching his fists. He blinks, and all of a sudden Arthur is standing right in front of him, leaning down to twist his fingers in the collar of Merlin’s shirt.

He’s so near yet so far at the same time, and Merlin leans forward to try to chase Arthur’s lips with his own. Arthur’s other hand lands on his shoulder, pushing him away.

“No, Merlin,” he scolds, but Merlin is too far gone to listen to him.

“Arthur, please. I. I can’t. Please, just…” he breaks off with a whimper when the plug moves inside him yet again. “No more. Please. I need. I need you.”

“Impudent. Disobedient. Impatient. I thought I’d taught you better than that, Merlin,” Arthur says. Merlin bows his head in apology, but the next moment he is leaning toward Arthur once again.

“I’m sorry. Sorry. But I can’t. I need more,” he gasps out. This time, Arthur allows Merlin to kiss him. It’s soft and sweet, and does absolutely nothing to make him calmer.

He loses orientation for a second when Arthur yanks him up off the couch. Before he knows it, he’s pressed up against Arthur’s body, with Arthur’s hands wandering down to his arse. Merlin moans when Arthur pushes the plug in farther with the tips of his fingers. He moves closer to Arthur in an attempt to get away from it, but Arthur only grips him more tightly.

“Upstairs,” Arthur growls, nipping at his ear. He pulls away, grabbing one of Merlin’s wrists, and pulls him along.

“No,” Merlin tries to protest. “Here. Please.”

Arthur turns to him. The stern expression on his face melts away at the sight of Merlin standing before him, wobbly-kneed and wanting.

“Just a little further, love. You can do it,” Arthur urges, tugging on Merlin’s wrist. Merlin grits his teeth as he staggers forward a few steps. He debates whether or not to say no, but Arthur is looking at him, so hopeful and loving, and Merlin doesn’t have it in him to be the one to remove that expression from his face.

“Alright,” he manages to breathe out. Arthur’s smile is blinding, and he turns back to pull Merlin up the stairs. Merlin follows, his breath hitching every time the plug moves.

He is so focused on taking one step after another that he doesn’t notice when they finally make it to the bedroom. Before he knows it, Arthur is carefully laying him down on the bed and undressing him. Merlin moans out Arthur’s name when Arthur removes the plug from his body, distracting him by planting open-mouthed kisses all along his chest.

Merlin feels empty, but it’s only for a moment, because right after, Arthur is uncapping the bottle of lube that was on their nightstand and pushing two fingers in, spreading them to stretch Merlin for what is to come. Merlin moves one of his hands to his erection, to bring himself some relief, but Arthur grips it and and moves it to the side. Instead he finds himself with Arthur’s lips wrapped around his cock, with Arthur’s fingers still moving in his arse.

“You were so good for me, Merlin,” Arthur whispers, moving off him for a split second. “Let me show you my appreciation.”

Then, his mouth is back on Merlin’s cock, all warm and wet, and Merlin is lost to the world.

 

 

Entry 17

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Gwaine/Leon

The trouble with Gwaine, Leon thought irritably, was that he just didn’t respect authority. Most importantly, although he didn’t respect authority generally, he specifically didn’t respect Leon’s authority. And that just wasn’t on.

“I’m First Knight,” he reminded Gwaine, as the knight turned up over an hour late for training. Yet again. “Arthur’s second. You should respect me as you would him.”

That last part was, he reflected later, probably a mistake.

Gwaine shrugged, unconcerned. “Okay, Deputy Princess. Keep your pants on.”

Leon couldn’t even protest that Gwaine wouldn’t speak to Arthur like that, because he knew perfectly well that Gwaine would.

The problem was, Gwaine was a bloody good knight and they couldn’t afford to lose him. He was also a show-off, needed a haircut, and never, ever understood how seriously he should take anything. Ever.

That particular day Gwaine was extremely trying. The sun was shining brightly, and Leon was sweating uncomfortably in his cloak and armour. Gwaine wasn’t. Gwaine had removed his cloak, then his armour, and finally his shirt. 

Leon was scandalised. He had said as much when the armour came off, which may possibly have been the cause of the shirt removal. Another mistake. 

It was unheard of. It was unseemly. It was… actually, it was delicious and that was putting Leon off his moves.

“Ow!” he yelled when Gwaine whacked him across the chest with the flat edge of his sword.

“Weren’t paying attention there, were you Deputy Princess?” Gwaine grinned.

Leon drew himself up proudly, trying not to show how badly Gwaine had winded him. “I most certainly was.”

“Not to the fighting,” Gwaine winked. 

Appalling man.

Gwaine feinted right, which afforded Leon an excellent and distracting view of his torso and toned and impressive upper left bicep, then twisted ridiculously quickly and flattened Leon with a single strike.

Somewhere behind him, Leon could hear Elyan snicker. The discipline failure was spreading. Gwaine was corrupting them all. 

“Capitulate?”

“A fortunate blow,” Leon spluttered, pushing away Gwaine’s offered hand and getting to his feet in as dignified a manner as he could.

“I could give you a much more fortunate blow than that,” Gwaine leered. “If you play your cards right.”

Obviously Leon had misheard him. Because that couldn’t be right. That sounded almost as if Gwaine were propositioning him. It had to be all those blows to the head he’d received in combat during his long and loyal service to Camelot over the years, making him imagine things.

Gwaine flicked back his hair, grinning rakishly at Leon. Perhaps he wasn’t imagining things. “Well?”

“I don’t have time for playing cards,” Leon told him primly. “Put your clothes back on, you’re frightening the squires.”

Gwaine didn’t put his clothes back on. “The squires don’t look very frightened,” he pointed out.

Young Galahad did, but then Galahad was very pure and looked shocked by most things. The rest of the squires were ogling Gwaine, there was no getting away from it. Very wrong.

“I think you’ve done enough training here for today,” Leon announced. “Go and practise jousting or something.” He turned to partner Elyan instead. Still, Gwaine wouldn’t go away.

“Got a long pole I can handle?” he piped up from behind Leon.

Leon glanced round. Gwaine was still shirtless. It was horribly distracting. For the second time that morning Leon went sprawling, this time from Elyan’s carefully aimed blow.

It was annoying, it made Leon look incompetent, and it was all Gwaine’s fault.

“Not doing very well today, are you?” Gwaine noted. “A good shag would fix that.”

“Go. Away.” Leon said through gritted teeth.

Gwaine went.

\---

Mercifully, Leon didn’t see Gwaine again for the rest of the day. He hoped rather than believed that Gwaine had got the message. Or, perhaps, was pestering someone else.

Much, much later Leon headed back for his quarters. The door was ajar, which wasn’t unusual because the chambermaids had no idea about security. But there was also a loud, unpleasant snoring noise coming from his bed. Leon recognised it from meetings at the Round Table, usually during one of his more thoughtful report readings. He didn’t need to see the tumble of unfeasibly glossy hair as the intruder woke and turned to look at Leon to know who it was. Damn him for being far too enticing.

“Get out of my bed, Gwaine.”

Gwaine did not get out of his bed, merely lay back, hands folded behind his head, grinning at Leon. “Would you prefer the floor? Or the table? I’m easy.”

Yes, Leon reflected. That was what castle gossip had agreed. “That’s nothing to be proud of.”

Gwaine flipped back the sheet to reveal himself in all his erect and magnificent glory.

Now that was something to be proud of. Judging by the smug look on Gwaine’s face, he was proud of it. 

Leon sniffed as disdainfully as he could. “Well, I suppose it would be rude to leave you in that state,” he sighed, starting to undress before he changed his mind. “I have a duty of care to my knights.” Leon’s sense of duty was considerable, especially when he might get to top. 

“Whatever,” Gwaine shrugged. “As long as I get a shag out of it.”

“Idiot,” Leon said, without much bite, climbing into bed. He leaned in to capture Gwaine’s mouth. That had the advantage of shutting him up too.

Later, tired and sated, Leon found himself actually cuddling. And cuddling Gwaine of all people. Gwaine was talking again…

“Tomorrow,” Gwaine began. “We could all practice shirtless. Swords, or maybe mud wrestling?”

“Mud wrestling?” Leon grumbled, thinking of his glorious red cloak. “That sounds filthy.” 

“Mmm, only if you do it right,” Gwaine hummed. He sat up, then shifted over until he was straddling Leon. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Leon gazed up at that muscular torso and perfect hair, feeling himself hardening at the sight.

“Wanna fuck me again?” Gwaine offered. 

It wasn’t deferential or respectful. 

Leon didn’t care.

 

 

Entry 18

 **Warnings:** slavery  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

 

“You can’t be serious father!” Arthur exclaimed, gesturing at the boy stood beside him.

“I expect no more from you, Arthur. He is yours to do with as you please, and I will hear nothing more about it.” With that the king nodded satisfied, before he turned and left.

Arthur shook his head, incredulous, his eyes sliding to the boy, who stood in exactly the same place as he been since he arrived, though his light blue eyes stared at Arthur almost innocently.

Arthur stared, studying him for a few moments, before he sighed and said.

“I guess you had better follow me then.”

Reaching Arthur’s room, he made sure to tightly lock his chamber door.

“Now what should I do with you?” It was a hypothetical question, as he didn’t expect an answer.

“What you father bought me for, I expect.”

Startled Arthur felt his cheeks heat, suddenly wrong footed in a way he had never been before.

“Is that what you would like to do?”

The boy nodded, formally blank expression morphing into one of desire. The boy then took a step closer, and another, and another until he was stood almost nose to nose with Arthur.

“What are you into?”

“Woah! I don’t even know your name.”

“Hu? It’s Meeerrrlin.” Merlin stretched his name out, rolling it on his tongue. “Now tell me what you’re into.”

Arthur felt his whole face flush, and he had to take a step back, only to find there was no where to step back to. 

“Well-” For probably the first time in his life Arthur found himself rendered speechless. Swallowing hard he summoned his courage and forced the answer out. “I would like for someone else to take control.”

“Would you now...” Merlin’s mouth curled up into a smile, and he leaned in until his nose brushed against Arthur’s jaw, before he laid a kiss on Arthur’s neck.

“Get on the bed for me?” Merlin purred the request low in Arthur’s ear, as one of his hands worked at Arthur’s belt, pulling it loose. Rather than comply, Arthur thought he would see how far he could push Merlin

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Make you, hmm?” Merlin nipped at Arthur’s neck, in such a way that caused a stirring down below.

Merlin followed up, by pushing one hand up under Arthur’s shirt, while with his other he gave Arthur’s cock a squeeze through his trousers.

“Get on the bed, or I won’t let you come.” Merlin bit Arthur’s neck again, and Arthur felt a moan bubble up from his throat. “Now.” Merlin used his hands to direct Arthur, manoeuvring him towards his bed, then all but pushing him backwards onto the sheets.

Merlin quickly joined him on the bed, crowding in close so Arthur would have no opportunity to escape.

“Lie back.” What had started as requests had quickly changed to commands as Merlin directed Arthur exactly, pausing to give him the occasional kiss as a reward when each of his instructions was followed.

Even though he had requested that Merlin take charge he hadn’t counted on quite how it would make him feel to be ordered around. His trousers were well and truly tented, his hips bucking up, trying to find friction in any way he could.

Merlin sat across his stomach, his body heat easily seeping through the fabric of Merlin’s trousers, which Arthur belatedly realised were also tented, though the slave appeared to have more discipline, as instead of using the opportunity to rut against Arthur’s chest, he was using his hands to slowly tear Arthur undone.

Fingers twisted at his right nip, and Arthur tried to arch upwards, whining, craving more stimulation.

“Now, now. You said you wanted to be controlled, so that means you’re only to do what I tell you, and I most certainly didn’t tell you you could do that.”

As a punishment Merlin laid one bite to Arthur’s collar, before he shuffled down Arthur’s body, settling himself just above Arthur’s knees.

Nimble fingers pulled Arthur’s laces apart, freeing his cock, before he circled his fingers around the base and held.

Arthur fisted his hands in the sheets, his breath coming in short quick pants as he fought not to writhe under Merlin.

“Good boy.” Merlin purred, before he leant forwards, pink tongue slipping from his mouth to lick one stroke up Arthur’s cock.

Arthur’s vision nearly whited out, his heart racing in his ears almost drowning everything out and he would have come right then if it wasn’t for Merlin’s hand still holding him back.

“Very good.”

Merlin’s breath brushed against hypersensitive skin.

“Please…” The words tumbled from Arthur’s lips, his eyes screwed shut.

“Oh! I’ve never heard royalty beg before.” Merlin exclaimed moving his free hand down his own trousers.

“But since you asked nicely and you’ve been so good for me, I’ll let you.” With his final words, Merlin released his grip, tugging up once, and sending Arthur over the edge.

His vision did white out as he came, Merlin’s name falling from his lips without a thought.

Arthur panted, whole body warm, and quickly falling into the drowsy relaxed state, his vision clearing just in time to see Merlin reach his own climax, head falling back and mouth dropping open.

 

 

Entry 19

 **Warnings:** Dub-con, light d/s  
**Pairing:** Lance/Gwen/Morgana 

Lance’s knees hit the hard floor with a nasty sound that equals the pain shooting up through his thighs. His shoulders are wrenched around, several pairs of strong arms holding him fast while a fist in his hair forces him to face the amused face of Morgana Pendragon.

“We found the mole,” Leon says from beside him, handing over Lance’s badge and notebook for Morgana to peruse. 

“My, my,” Morgana says, flipping through the notebook with one eyebrow raised at all the information he has managed to gather on them. “Agent Lancelot du Lac, what a busy little bee you’ve been… Effective too,” she remarks after a few silent moments, like she’s actually impressed. “But you did the right thing, you know.” She snaps the notebook closed the sound echoing through the lobby. “Exploiting Merlin’s good nature and easy smiles to weave your way into our midst.”

She takes a few dangerous steps closer and crouches down so they’re at eye-level. Her voice is filled with something resembling pity as she speaks, “Did you honestly think someone like him could survive in a world like this if there was not stone cold steel beneath his positive exterior?” She huffs out a laugh containing genuine humour. “I know most people think he’s nothing more than Arthur’s lapdog, but between you and me, Merlin’s got my brother wrapped around his little finger.”

Leon and the henchmen holding Lance captive snickers. Lance would laugh too if the situation had been different, because the arguments between Merlin and Arthur are legendary and something of a running joke between the entire gang, except maybe Arthur and Merlin themselves.

Morgana’s eyes crinkles with mirth. “Ah yes, the things we do for love.” She lets a finger glide over a bruise blooming across Lance’s cheek. “Arthur has his Merlin… and I have my dear Guinevere.” She watches his face intently, and Lance is not quick enough to hide the yearning in his eyes at the mention of that name.

“Oh, Lance,” she says, voice again filled with a pity she doesn’t mean. “There’s no reason to hide your desire for her from me. In fact, if anyone can understand the impact Gwen has on people, it’s me. You see, I too, have been bewitched by her beauty and her pure heart, so I cannot fault you for having fallen into the same trap. We’re kindred spirits.”

Morgana tilts her head closer to whisper into his ear, lipstick-covered lips brushing his skin and sending shiver down his spine. Lance is not sure whether it’s because his body senses the danger, or because she’s an undeniably attractive woman.

“She looks at you, too, you know,” Morgana confides on a low breath. “Watches you move about headquarters with a hunger she usually reserves for me. At first I was mad. Furious! Raging with the fire of jealousy despite the fact she’ll never stray.” She shakes her head, a strange smile on her lips. “But then I understood. You do have something I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give it to her.”

Morgana straightens up, standing to address her henchmen and Leon. “Clean him up and bring him to my room. Alive.”

He’s naked. He’s lying on his back on a soft bed and his hands and feet are tied up to the bedposts with some kind of cloth. Morgana is sitting on a chair dressed in a red, silken robe, hair loose and swept over one shoulder.

Gwen is sitting beside him on the bed, as naked as he is. There’s a smile upon her face. Hunger, too.

Lance’s heart speeds up his pace, but not because of fear. The blood is running an entirely different way, and Gwen looks down at his slowly filling cock. Then back up at him, meeting his eyes with anticipation.

“You want this as much as I do, don’t you,” she asks, breathless, but doesn’t wait for an answer. Slowly, she lifts her feet from the floor, shifting to crawl over Lance until she comes to his cock. She inspects it, giving it a few tugs to make sure he’s hard before bending down to lick one long stripe up from root till the tip.

Lance wants to gasp, but he doesn’t dare utter a sound.

“Ah,” Gwen says. “We even left you ungagged so we’d be able to hear your screams. But if you’re going to be stubborn about it, we might as well put that mouth to good use in another way.”

She crawls up over his abdomen, sliding her knees on either side of his face so her crotch is right in front of him.

“I think you know what to do,” she says as she sits down on his face.

And Lance does know what to do, has had inappropriate dreams about it for a long time, although he’d never imagine it would be in these circumstances and with Morgana watching. 

Gwen gasps out when his tongue touches her clit, hips moving by their own account. Lance supresses a moan deep in his throat by licking again. And again. And again until his face is wet with her slick and his own spit, and Gwen is stilling with a loud moan that is echoed by Morgana’s from the sideline. Lance has almost forgotten she’s there.

Afterwards, when Gwen has regained her breath, she crawls back down to his stiff cock that’s feels like it’s never been harder. She laughs at him, radiant from orgasm, and slides down on his length before Lance can understand what’s happening.

“Come now, Morgana,” Gwen says, lifting her hips up and almost away before sliding back down in an easy glide. “His face is free. Surely, a man’s tongue cannot be that different from a woman’s.”

 

 

Entry 20

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur folded his hands together and leaned his elbows on the table, bringing his face that much closer to Merlin. 

“Tell me about a time when you helped a customer achieve their goal.”

Merlin swallowed. He could feel a drop of sweat drip down his lower back and wondered if he had pit stains by now as well. 

“Em. Well there is a regular at our store who is studying theatre, and she’s. She’s studying movie musicals and asked if we had Grease 2 in stock? In the interest of helping her become a better actor I told her that we didn’t have that here. I mean honestly no one watches it beyond the song about the birds and the bees anyhow, so I really was doing her a favor.”

The blonde man just stared at Merlin, giving nothing away.

Brilliant. Now it looks like you denied someone service and he knows you’ve seen Grease 2. End on a high note.

“Well. Instead I recommended Repo the Genetic Opera, and the last time I talked to her she seemed pretty keen on Anthony Head, the em. The Repo Man. Uh.”

Arthur continued to stare. Merlin tried his best not to fidget visibly, and then he realized his hair was in his eyes. Eye contact mattered in situations like this. He wondered if it would be worse to try and move his hair out of the way and obviously Arthur would notice, or if he should pretend it was on purpose. His back itched like crazy and bloody hell, the back of his shirt would be wet through by the time this interview was over.

Apparently the time that Merlin spent having a panic attack was similarly the time it took Arthur to come up with his next item of interrogation.

“Describe an experience when a customer left unsatisfied.”

Unsatisfied? How the hell could Merlin say anything that made him look good? Who made up these questions? Some masochist with way too much power. 

“There… Well there was this one time the DVD cleaner jammed. Actually, em. There was a customer who was insulted we didn’t have all nine Planet of the Apes movies in stock for their special movie marathon, as someone had already checked out War of the Planet of the Apes. Or it was Dawn of the Planet of the Apes. It was definitely one of the Matt Reeves’ installations.”

“Matt Reeves,” Arthur intoned, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Yes, I know it was Matt Reeves because it was the director of that shit film The Pallbearer? I don’t know why they gave him such an important project but-“

“It is important to have the right man for the job, I agree,” Arthur said, maintaining as much eye contact as was possible with Merlin’s current hair situation. 

“The job.” Merlin licked his lips. 

“The job,” Arthur nodded.

Maybe it’s time for a distraction.

“You will find me quite capable,” Merlin purred, leaning in so that he was just in Arthur’s personal space.

After a moment it seemed the other man took notice, as he leaned back in his chair and smirked. 

“I hope employee relations are one of the skills that you excel at.”

Merlin chuckled and pushed his chair back, standing up a bit too eagerly. 

“Oh I am quite confident that I can prove myself acceptable.”

Merlin ambled around the table and stopped between Arthur’s legs. With a smirk Arthur started to unzip his trousers but Merlin shook his head, guiding Arthur’s hand to grasp the seat of the chair instead. 

Merlin proceeded to unzip his own jeans and grasp himself, showing Arthur exactly what he had to offer. The lap dance to follow was quite nice, but when they took it back to their bedroom later, Merlin’s skills truly excelled. 

“What do you think, baby? Did I get the promotion?” Merlin snickered as they spooned beneath the sheets.

“Oh you definitely got the job, baby.” Arthur turned around so that Merlin could see his face. 

“You know that you don’t need to worry about tomorrow, right? They know you’re the hardest working person there and customers regularly leave you love notes in the suggestion box. I know they will see how brilliant you really are.” 

Merlin just readjusted himself so that they fit together once more, and he held Arthur close as their breathing evened out and sleep came.

 

 

Entry 21

 **Warnings:** dubcon due to heat cycles  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Merlin circles Arthur’s legs as he rubs against him, purring and wiggling his ass. 

“You’re ridiculous when you’re in heat.” Arthur laughs. “Look how affectionate you are.” He grins down at Merlin and reaches down to pet his head. He fingers the soft, furry ears and Merlin mews, nudging his head against Arthur’s hand.

“Come here then.” Arthur laughs. “Go on and crawl up.” He pats his lap and motions for Merlin to climb up. 

Merlin stumble-crawls up the bed. He drapes himself over Arthur’s lap all knees and elbows until he’s propped on the bed with his ass high in the air.

Arthur rubs his hand in a long sweep down Merlin’s back from his shoulders to his tail. One hand slides down the length of his long tail as he spreads the fingers of his other hand and glides it down over the curve of his ass. He palms Merlin’s rounded cheeks, his hand large against Merlin’s small frame. 

Arthur wants to touch Merlin everywhere. He slides his hand under Merlin’s belly— pets him there before moving up his chest, fingers tweaking his nipples before changing direction.

His hand strokes down Merlin’s tummy again as he reaches for his little cocklet. It’s barely a handful, hanging between his legs, sweetly nested against his balls.

Merlin whimpers and ruts against Arthur’s hand pitifully. Arthur gives a gentle squeeze and strokes it a couple of times before moving on.

His hand skates up the back of Merlin’s thighs, fingers slipping between his cheeks on the upward slide and nudging slowly into the melty-hot heat of his asshole.

Merlin is drippy-wet and Arthur’s fingers slide right in as Merlin moans and thrusts and grinds back on his fingers wanting more.

Arthur presses his fingers deeper and Merlin mewls, his whole body shaking with a shudder of pleasure.

Merlin shifts backwards, shoves his ass back, and forces Arthur’s thick fingers in further. He backs up until his face is in Arthur’s lap. He nuzzles against the hard line of Arthur’s cock as it strains against the zip of his jeans. 

Arthur groans as he reaches down to yank the button of his jeans open with his free hand. He finally gets the zipper down and reaches in to free his cock.

Finally it springs forward, so thick and heavy it sags against his leg until Merlin manages to get his lips around it. 

He sucks cock like his life depends on it. Sliding Arthur’s cock deep into his throat until he gags and has to pull back.

Merlin’s pink tongue darts out, swirling around the head, licking the precome away before swallowing him down deep again.

Arthur slides his fingers out, playing with Merlin’s rim, stretching him wide before thrusting in again with a third finger, until Merlin’s hole is stretched tight around him once more. 

Arthur closes his eyes as his orgasm builds and crests higher. He listens contentedly to the squelching sounds his fingers make as they move in and out of Merlin’s slick hole as he comes deep down Merlin’s throat.

 

 

Entry 22

 **Warnings:** a/b/o, heat cycles, doctor/patient, male lactation, could be seen as dubious consent  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Merlin wakes up in a puddle of wet sheets. He rubs his hands over his chest, and finds himself drenched with sticky milk running down his front.

He’s noticed his nipples have been sore the last couple of days, and that isn’t completely out of the ordinary, but this is the first time he’s ever woken to them _leaking_. 

He’s used to a bit of soreness around his heat. Sometimes around this time of his cycle his nipples are a bit swollen and tender, but he’s never woken up wet before.

He quickly strips off his soaking wet shirt and uses it to mop up the mess, but when they don’t appear to be stopping, he tosses on a clean shirt and a hoodie and decides to head across campus to the omega clinic.

Crossing campus is a humiliating experience. He crosses his arms tight over his chest and walks as fast as he can. He catches more than one alpha scenting him as he goes, but he keeps his head down and keeps moving.

He pushes through the door to the waiting room and Gwen the receptionist greets him with a wave. She takes one whiff of him and quickly ushers him into a private exam room.

She asks him a couple of questions about his symptoms, quickly takes his vitals, and jots down some notes onto a clipboard.

“Don’t worry. It’s all completely normal”, she assures him. 

Merlin nods, unconvinced.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she says as she closes the door behind her and leaves him to wait.

Merlin sits nervously on the edge of the examination table as he waits for the doctor to see him.

He’s still pressing his arms tight across his chest, trying to stop the flow of milk when a fit, blond doctor enters the room holding a file with his name on it.

Merlin immediately recognizes him as an alpha, and he unintentionally bares his neck.

When he realizes what he’s doing, he feels an embarrassed flush cover his cheeks and he curses under his breath. 

So much for all the omega rights workshops he’s attended. If the smell of one alpha has him practically presenting, then Merlin’s not sure there’s any hope for his kind. 

“Hello, Merlin. I’m Doctor Pendragon. What seems to the the problem?” he asks in a posh voice. As if he can’t tell with just one sniff in Merlin’s direction. 

Merlin can’t believe the prat is actually going to make him say it. “I.. when I woke up this morning, I was…” he points to his chest where he’s already leaking through both the t-shirt and the hoodie.

“Let’s see then.” Doctor Pendragon motions for him to remove his shirts. The doctor’s eyes never leave him as Merlin silently strips. 

As the fabric of his shirt slides over his oversensitive nipples, he bites down on a whimper. 

It’s cold in the exam room and his nipples are already hard and peaked. Merlin watches, mortified, as a drop of milk drips from his nipple and slides down his stomach. 

Doctor Pendragon steps closer, his alpha scent invading Merlin’s senses. He watches helplessly as droplets of milk bead up on the end of his nipple, grow heavy, and slide down his bare chest.

The doctor reaches out to touch, squeezing his nipple firmly between finger and thumb and Merlin feels his cock begin to grow stiff.

Merlin knows his heat is close. His skin feels too tight and he’s got a slight chill. The touch of the doctor makes Merlin whine unintentionally.

Doctor Pendragon squeezes and tugs on Merlin’s nipple until the drops form more quickly. It seems an unnecessary endeavor to Merlin. 

The doctor flicks his thumb over Merlin’s sensitive nipple, gathering a drop and bringing it to his lips to taste. Merlin doesn’t miss the way the doctor’s nostrils flare as he sucks Merlin’s milk from his finger tip.

“Your heat is close. I can taste it on you,” the doctor tells him— as if Merlin had no idea.

“I know,” Merlin replies, “but I’ve never leaked like this.”

“Increased milk supply isn’t uncommon,” Doctor Pendragon tells him. “But it may be beneficial to perform some hormone tests to be sure.”

“Okay,” Merlin nods. “What do I need to do?”

“I’ll need to express some of your milk to be tested,” Doctor Pendragon says, already reaching for Merlin’s other nipple.

He presents a collection cup that Merlin never saw him grab. He holds it close as he rolls Merlin’s nipple between his finger and thumb, working it until more and more drops form, small drops joining to form larger ones as they run down his chest and into the cup. Doctor Pendragon pinches and pulls until a steady stream of milk forms.

At the sensation Merlin moans. “Wait, please…. It’s too much.”

“You’re doing so well,” Doctor Pendragon assures him. He presses him backwards until he’s laying flat on the exam table. 

Merlin arches his back and presses his chest up into the doctor’s hand. 

“That’s it. Let it go. Just like that.”

“Stop, please…” Merlin groans, biting his lip. “I’m too close to my heat. I’m going to…”

He knows he’s going to come soon if this continues, but he can’t bear to say it out loud.

“That’s good, Merlin. That’s perfect. It will benefit the test. Feel free to come at anytime. It will ensure a stronger hormone reading.“

Merlin’s nipples are swollen and hard and every pull of Doctor Pendragon’s fingers sends a jolt directly to his cock. 

“Just a little more,” the doctor soothes and Merlin keens, bucking and spasming under the firm touch of Doctor Pendragon as he comes untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and show our dedicated porners some love!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week one of the Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/3198.html)

Entry 23

 **Pairing:** Merlin / Arthur Pendragon  
**Summary:** Arthur loves the power Merlin's magic has over him, loves the trust between them and loves to give himself completely into Merlin's authority.

 

Entry 24

 **Pairing:** Gwen/Morgana  
**Warnings:** I don't actually know how to draw a motorcycle.  
**Summary:** Disregard the constabulary! B)

 

Entry 25

 **Warnings:** dub-con  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
**Summary:** What Emrys wants, Emrys gets. 

 

Entry 26

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Morgana/Arthur

[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/sockpuppet_2/77897388/1263/1263_original.png)

Entry 27

 **Warnings:** Catboys?  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
**Summary** : The Cammie is a proud, noble animal said to submit to nobody. Until Cammie-whisperer Emrys comes along. Nobody knows how he got the Cammie King to bow to him, and Emrys isn’t telling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and show our dedicated porners some love!


End file.
